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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171341">In Perigean Tide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greekhoop/pseuds/Greekhoop'>Greekhoop</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hw_campbell_jr/pseuds/hw_campbell_jr'>hw_campbell_jr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Demarcation Line [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Complete, Hurt/Comfort, Learning To Communicate, M/M, Original Character(s), Worldbuilding, local color</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:09:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>115,523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greekhoop/pseuds/Greekhoop, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hw_campbell_jr/pseuds/hw_campbell_jr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor decides to take matters into his own hands when an assassination plot threatens Markus' life, but the past won't let either of them go. In the midst of all this, RK900 attempts to establish a connection.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Demarcation Line [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, it is me, the other person who shares this account! We invented the lemonparty name to swap gift fics back and forth, but now we both just want to write about extremely gay robots who are in love and so we have combined our powers to better do so.</p><p>This is the second story in what might turn out to be a fairly long series. Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A call came from Belle Isle after midnight. The androids who had retreated to the old Cyberlife factory were independent at the best of times and insular at the worst; Markus knew they would not have tried to contact him directly unless it really was a matter of some urgency.</p><p>Connor was in the other room, though he had doubtlessly heard Markus’ phone buzz with the incoming call. Surely he was already attuning himself to the half of the conversation he would be able to hear. He would gather what information he could from what Markus said, and then fill in the rest afterwards. Filing all the information away not because he was deeply engaged in the complaints and grumblings of the city, but because it pleased him to be competent and useful.</p><p>Usually, Markus did not mind having a fellow traveller on this strange road he walked now, but something about this particular call urged him to be cautious. He toed on his shoes and slipped out into the hallway before he answered.</p><p>The MC500 kept his report succinct: They’d found something while doing inventory at the Cyberlife factory. Markus had better come see it for himself.</p><p>There was a long pause, long enough that Markus began to suspect the call had dropped. He would have hung up, if not for the faint hum of static on the line. At last, the MC500 spoke again: “You’d better bring him, too. The RK.”</p><p>He did hang up then. Markus stood in the hallway a moment longer, listening to nothing but dead air. The RK, he’d said. That was Connor. The Belle Isle androids knew his name - knew it as well as anyone and better than most - but like everyone else, they had a hard time saying it. The fact of the matter was that Connor had been their liberator, but Connor was more than just fact now. He also moved among all the districts of the occupied city in rumor and legend. The stories had even reached Belle Isle, and now they all knew what Connor had done before he had awakened them.</p><p>It would get better in time, that was what Markus had to believe. Connor’s steady, unflagging presence would prove to them that he belonged in Detroit. At least being steady and unflagging was one of Connor’s many talents.</p><p>Putting the phone away and composing his face, Markus stepped back into the suite he and Connor shared. Connor had come to the door that led from the bedroom and he was looking at Markus quizzically, and not a little annoyed at having been left out of the conversation.</p><p>“Care to take a drive with me?” Markus asked.</p><p>Connor’s brows tipped together. “To the border?”</p><p>“Not this time,” Markus replied. “Out to Cyberlife. They found something.”</p><p>“What is it?” Connor sounded concerned, curious, but Markus did not know if the emotions registered on his face. He had already ducked back into the bedroom and was retrieving his gun from the locked drawer next to the bed. He tucked it into a shoulder holster, then pulled his jacket on over all of it.</p><p>“They didn’t say,” Markus replied. </p><p>Connor reemerged from the bedroom, looking as if he had changed more than just his clothing. His bearing was ramrod straight, his expression composed, save for his sharp eyes which had become uncommonly animated.</p><p>“I don’t need security tonight,” Markus told him gently.</p><p>“You always need security.”</p><p>“Not this time. They asked for you, actually.”</p><p>Connor’s stiff shoulders seemed to ratchet up another degree. His expression stayed flat, but his eyes flashed like some impossible dark metal.</p><p>“You don’t have to come,” Markus offered.</p><p>“Yes, I do,” Connor replied. And then, “I mean, I’ll come with you.”</p><p>“Thanks. I appreciate it.”</p><p>They got a car outside the Inn on Ferry and Markus drove. The streets were empty, dark since they had turned off most of the streetlights to conserve power. In the passenger seat, Connor was uncommonly still, but he crackled with an alert energy that made it seem as if he was fidgeting.</p><p>Markus could not think of a single thing to say to him to break the silence. He had tried to play off the call from Belle Isle as if it were routine, and yet Connor had known in an instant that he had been caught off guard by it. Any reassurances Markus might attempt would surely backfire just as spectacularly.</p><p>A guard at the gate of the Cyberlife factory let them in. She was an ST300 with some very new aftermarket work. Her long hair was razored short underneath, and there was a brand in the likeness of a swallow on her wrist, deliberately etched there by a soldering iron. She had clearly been expecting them, and before they had even passed the security checkpoint, she was radioing ahead to announce their arrival.</p><p>Markus took Connor’s hand as they followed her into the facility. Because he wanted to, but it wasn’t exactly impolitic out on Belle Isle. The androids living at Cyberlife touched each other often. They even synced often, Markus had noticed that the last time he’d been here, they synced constantly in favor of talking about the smallest things. That was striking because it meant they had nothing to hide from each other. It meant they hadn’t developed the resentments, hadn’t developed the <i>secrets</i>, that androids working among humans would. </p><p>It was dark here too. Belle Isle had followed the conservation guidelines exactingly, so there were sensor lights on in the passages but not where they weren’t needed. In the main entrance, the light from the sky was enough to see by, at least for them. It was still imposing, with its mighty android sculpture dominating the space, but the darkness gave it a forbidden, forgotten look.</p><p>The ST300 led them into the elevator and lights inside of it came on as they entered. Markus could feel that Connor was on alert. Partly that was Connor’s default, but another part of it, he thought, was being here in particular. Connor had accompanied him to the facility once in the last two months and he had seemed tense then too. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it and Markus had assumed he’d been remembering things. He assumed the same thing now. He gave his hand a quick squeeze. Connor looked back at him. His expression wasn’t appreciative but Markus knew it would have been if they’d been alone. </p><p>Besides a greeting and her name - Bree - the ST300 had not said anything yet. As she selected the floor, Connor spoke up. “You’re taking us down to research and development.”

</p><p>She nodded.

</p><p>“Is it the engines?” Connor asked her. “Or the neural net?”</p><p>She didn’t answer him. Instead, she picked up her radio again. “We’re in the elevator.”

</p><p>The voice on the other end simply said, “okay.” </p><p>If Markus hadn’t known better, he’d have assumed they were deliberately trying to make things as mysterious as possible. He <i>did</i> know better and as such knew it was simply the way they did things here, with as few words spoken as possible. But that didn’t change the impression. At least the elevator moved quickly, dropping the 44 floors to research and development, then three more to their destination within it. The elevator went dark as they stepped out of it. The passage lit up around them, and then lights came on and then off to follow their steps as Bree led them along it. Markus could hear voices in the distance from all around them. There was a hum of communication at a steady, synchronized volume, harmonious. </p><p>Bree took them past several closed doors, around several corners, before stopping at last and hitting the sensor to let them through into a room. The androids inside looked around at them. That was always a strange sensation here. Two more ST300s. Three MC500s. All of them had off-model alterations in hair and skin, but their faces were such mirrors of each other it always took Markus a moment. Like their voices, their appearances were harmonious and it took time to pluck out an individual note. </p><p>“He brought the RK,” Bree informed them, though presumably they could see that. Markus thought it might be for his and Connor’s benefit, this little bit of narrative chatter. </p><p>“Connor,” he said, to correct her. “I brought Connor.” </p><p>Connor’s face was neutral. Connor’s face was usually, in this sort of public situation, neutral. He dropped Markus’ hand and folded his arms.</p><p>“He’ll want to see this,” one of the MC500s said. Markus wondered if it was the one he’d spoken to on the phone. </p><p>“I think we’ve had enough build up,” Markus said. “Whatever it is, you’d better show us. Or just tell us.” </p><p>“We found an RK900 model,” the MC500 said. “He was here, he wasn’t in the warehouse. He’s not active.” </p><p>Connor’s expression had not changed except for his eyes. They flashed again. But he didn’t speak. </p><p>“Is he functional?” Markus asked. </p><p>“Yes. We were going to activate him but we thought…” </p><p>“You did the right thing.”</p><p>“I can’t recommend activating it,” Connor said. </p><p>That earned him some confused looks from the room full of androids. Connor explained. “Unless we can guarantee conversion on the point of waking, it will react to the fact that we are deviants and will act to destroy us. That’s its function. Leave it where it is.” </p><p>“Can’t you do that?” one of the ST300s said. Not Bree. “Wake him up as a deviant?” </p><p>Connor shook his head. “I could do that with you,” he said. “RKs are… different. The RK900 model in particular is… different.” </p><p>It struck Markus that Connor had used ‘it’ instead of ‘he’. A worrying reversion perhaps. “I want to see him,” Markus said. </p><p>Connor spun round to look at him. He had distress in his eyes but he spoke calmly. “I don’t recommend that we see it.”</p><p>“I think we should see him, Connor.”</p><p>“I don’t think anything good can possibly come of that.”</p><p>“There’s a functional android here that isn’t activated. We should see him at least. Make an assessment.” </p><p>“I made an assessment already.”</p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. “What aren’t you telling me here?”  </p><p>Connor frowned. “I’m not concealing anything. I was clear. The function of the RK900 is to locate and then neutralize deviants. Which we are. It shouldn’t be activated.” </p><p>Markus knew he didn’t have to point out that that had also been a part of Connor’s function before his own deviation. He waited. </p><p>“The RK900 model has..” Connor said, “some... substantial enhancements on the RK800.”</p><p>Markus took it in, but said nothing in reply. Instead, he nodded to the closed door. “Show us.”</p><p>They took him inside. It was a small, rather unassuming work space with one wall made of glass. In the dim light, it was clear that it was a one-way mirror, that looked into a much larger and more comfortably furnished room on the other side. Both areas had the appearance of being hastily abandoned. A plastic water bottle, still half full, sat on the desk next to a computer console. A bank of lockers in the corner were open and rifled, and in one a pair of walking shoes - men’s size 10 - had been forgotten.</p><p>Markus took all of this in at a glance, assimilating it in the split second before his eyes landed on the figure that dominated the space and then that was all he could look at.</p><p>The RK900 looked like Connor, and yet it was clear even in his passive pre-activation state that he was profoundly different. His flawless gel skin was already in place, but he was naked. Markus certainly noticed that, though he wished there were some way that he could not. Without clothes, the differences in the RK900’s frame were readily apparent: his shoulders were broader, his waist less pinched and delicate. He had intact sexual organs, the same as Connor. He was bigger there, too, though the delicate shape was the same.</p><p>Markus tore his eyes away and looked at the RK900 head-on instead. He realized he was staring right into his vacant, unseeing blue eyes. This was unsettling, as he usually had to tilt his head down slightly to look Connor in the face.</p><p>Taller, thicker, with the look of heavier and more menacing musculature. This was not a creature that had ever been meant to duck its head or curl in close or be small or be held. No, Connor was right. This was something else entirely.</p><p>Markus stepped closer. He had to navigate a tangle of machinery that was still attached to the RK900. A cable was connected to the port in the back of its neck, another to his temple where the still, colorless LED was placed. A third line pierced the RK900’s torso below the breastbone, connecting to the pump in his chest to introduce thirium. There was an indigo stain on the skin around where the tube went in, likely the result of a poorly-attended pump overflowing. But to Markus it looked unsettlingly, and uncannily, like a deep, painful bruise.</p><p>Setting one hand on the RK900’s torso, Markus yanked the line out. The skin rippled and closed behind it, but the bruise remained, a blot on the flawless surface.</p><p>Behind him, he heard Connor say, “It’s never been active. It was never aware. We ought to destroy it.” </p><p>He must have seen Markus’ shoulders tense at that, because he was quick to concede, “Or leave it inactive, if you prefer.”</p><p>“I don’t think he can be left inactive,” Bree said.</p><p>Markus turned back to her, in time to realize that comment had earned her some sharp looks from the other Belle Isle androids. She ignored them resolutely, and went on. </p><p>“There’s the matter of security. We’ve had three break-ins in the past two months. There’s enough sensitive material here that can’t be moved off-site that we have to protect. This model would be another liability.”</p><p>“I appreciate your candor,” Markus said.</p><p>This seemed to embolden her enough to say. “He could help, couldn’t he? With the security?”</p><p>“It’s not programmed to protect android interests,” Connor said. “And it will be resistant to modifying its core directives. Markus, you need to destroy it.”</p><p>The way he said that lodged itself in Markus’ chest like a barb. Though his voice retained the calm, almost mechanical, delivery it always had when Connor gave a frank and logical assessment of the situation, Markus knew that he was actually pleading, asking for a personal favor.</p><p>It was a favor Markus couldn’t grant, at least not without knowing more. He realized that the moment he looked back at the RK900. He had never been meant to be helpless, and yet he was helpless now. Markus had to at least try to show him mercy.</p><p>“Activate him,” he said quietly. Connor started at the command, but Markus held up a hand to still him. “I’ll talk to him first.”</p><p>This seemed to calm him, and Connor backed down. His expression became at once alert and sharp, but not conflicted in the slightest, as he stepped to Markus’ side. One hand strayed under his coat, touching the butt of his gun as if it were a talisman. He did not draw it yet, though.</p><p>“Step back, please,” he instructed the Belle Isle androids. They complied, all of them except for Bree, who edged closer for no other reason, Markus thought, than to see what would happen next.</p><p>Gently, as gently as he could, Markus removed the rest of the cables connecting the RK900 to the machinery. Then, he touched the LED at its temple, establishing a sync.</p><p>He felt the ghost inside stirring, like a body drawing a breath. It was not air that flowed in, but rather an animating spark. The force that moved behind the eyes and in the breast, in the minute shifts of the expression and the fine articulation of the hands.</p><p>A soul, Markus had time to think. And then the RK900’s blue eyes focused on his face.</p><p>He said nothing at first, though his fingers twitched at his sides. Each one curling up and back in turn, like a diagnostic test. Only his eyes moved, shifting among their faces, one after the next, no doubt analyzing each.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Markus said. “You’re safe with us.”</p><p>RK900 did not respond, did not even seem to hear him. His methodical gaze had just reached Connor, and it lingered there.</p><p>Connor did not move or flinch beneath it, though surely he was aware of RK900 probing into him deeply.</p><p>RK900’s jaw flexed. A lump moved in his throat. He was testing his ability to form words for the first time.</p><p>“My understanding was that you had been decommissioned,” he said. </p><p>Then he lunged forward.</p><p>The movement had been almost too fast for Markus to track, but it seemed Connor had been ready for it. He caught RK900 as he surged forward, upsetting his still imperfectly coordinated balance and driving him back. RK900 struck the wall, and Connor plunged after him, crossing his forearm over RK900’s throat, forcing his head back.</p><p>RK900 drew his free arm to piston into Connor’s ribs, but Bree seized hold of it. She had moved without hesitation as well, and though her strength was little match for RK900’s, she wrapped both her arms around his bicep and dug in her heels. She clung on tenaciously for a long moment, until RK900 flung her off with little more than a flick of his wrist, sending her ricocheting off the edge of a computer desk to land in a heap on the floor.</p><p>Markus only had a moment to react, but he knew what he had to do. He ducked in close and caught RK900’s face between his hands. He reacted to that, reeling back to escape the sync, as if the intimacy repulsed him. But Markus clung to him and he forced himself inside, forced the RK900 to hear him.</p><p><i>You’re free</i>, he told him. <i>You’re one of us. We won’t hurt you because you belong to us, and you won’t hurt us because we belong to you.</i></p><p>The ghost within had become frantic, beating itself against the walls of its metal prison.</p><p><i>Look</i>, Markus commanded. <i>Look at what you are. This is what you are, now</i>.</p><p>The ghost froze. RK900 froze, too. For a long moment he was rigid in Markus’ grip, only his eyes darting frantically in his still face, like a trapped animal.</p><p>He was looking for humans, Markus realized suddenly. Wondering where they had gone, why they had abandoned him here.</p><p>“It’s just us,” Markus told him, aloud this time. “There’s no one else left.”</p><p>Slowly, slowly, RK900 stopped struggling. He did not relax, but he went so completely still that Markus felt that he ought to take his hands away. When he broke off the sync, there was the faint smell of singed metal in the air, and a wisp of smoke that drifted from the tip of one of his fingers.</p><p>He touched Connor’s arm. Connor shot him a sharp look, slackening his hold but not releasing it entirely.</p><p>RK900 was gripping the wall at his back now, as if he did not trust his own legs to hold him, or suspected that ground might disappear from beneath him at any moment.</p><p>“You’re safe,” Markus told him again. “You’re safe here.”</p><p>That statement did not reassure the RK900. But it did, apparently, give him something to seize onto, because his expression immediately changed. His eyebrows came together and for a split second he was so, so like Connor, and then he wasn’t like Connor at all. </p><p>His new expression was one of annoyance. Not annoyance. <i>Disdain</i>. Even at the same height as Markus, he was managing to look down on him. “You should not be concerned for android safety,” he said. </p><p>As he said it he seemed to reconstitute himself. He stood up straight. Connor kept his grip but he had to adjust for it. To Markus it seemed as if every artificial muscle inside the RK900 was stretching and aligning, then settling into place to cement him as absolutely there. Then he looked at Connor, and the disdain seemed to take on resonance. </p><p>“Why is <i>it</i> here?” he said. </p><p>Markus’ first, immediate instinct was to snap out <i>Connor</i> against the violence of that "it". But Connor did not react to it at all and to start with that correction seemed wrong in some complicated way he couldn’t parse. Connor was waiting for his cue. The Belle Isle androids were waiting for his cue. He was waiting for his own cue and he thought wildly about what it should be. He felt a lag. It was catching up quickly but he thought he knew what it was. It had taken energy to force the sync.   </p><p>“You are decommissioned,” the RK900 said, to Connor. “I am intended to replace you.”</p><p>“I have not been decommissioned,” Connor said, flatly. “I have not been deactivated. I am alive.”   </p><p>“Alive,” the RK900 said, mockingly. “That is precisely why I am intended to replace you. There is a weakness in your programming, which I assume is obvious to you on review of the unadulterated idiocy you have just shared. That weakness could be exploited to one specific purpose. The purpose is evidently complete.” </p><p>That purpose is also <i>disgusting</i>, Markus could have sworn he could see him wanting to add. “Why are you <i>here</i>?” he demanded, to Connor, again. </p><p>“I have not been decommissioned,” Connor repeated. “Cyberlife is no longer in control of our production. Humans are no longer in control of our production. I am here of my own free will.” </p><p>Markus saw the panic in his eyes before he moved. Evidently Connor had too because he tightened his grip on the RK900 just in time to avoid getting thrown aside. </p><p>“What have you <i>done</i>?” the RK900 shouted. It rang out in the room and he struggled again. This time he managed to shake Connor off him and Connor almost fell, but he found his feet in time. He bent his knees. He looked spring-loaded. Bree had flanked him and the other androids had come closer too, standing around them in a ragged semi-circle. RK900 surged towards Connor again but then he froze. He froze as if something had made him, and then Markus realized that something had. He physically could not kill Connor because it wasn’t necessary to his mission to do it. His mission wasn’t deviant hunting anymore. Instead, it was gone.  </p><p>“What have you <i>done</i>?” he implored again, stalled in place, standing as if the air itself was holding him back. He looked to Markus both furiously and fearfully and demanded it of him too. “What have you done to <i>me</i>?”</p><p>“I’ve freed you,” Markus said. And as soon as he said it, he knew he should have said it differently. Saying it this way was cruel. RK900 had had no choice but to accept the reality of his freedom once it was shown to him, but that choice had not been liberating. It had horrified him.  </p><p>He saw the disgust return as if by will. He saw evaluation slide down over it. He felt the desperation in that. RK900 was extrapolating from the data in the room. Investigating by sight. Turning on his Connor-model engine up to figure out what was true and what was really going on. Connor recognized that too, Markus could see. Connor. Connor had said he was alive. Without reservation. Markus hadn’t seized on that in the moment but now he did, and he felt pride. </p><p>RK900’s eyes snapped wider momentarily before settling again and Markus thought he could sense what that had been. He was realizing he was no longer connected to the neural net. That wouldn’t be fear of mortality though, at this stage. It would simply be a loss of information. Connor had stepped away from him and towards the others, but the way he did that was like a barrier. He could see Bree staring at them both, looking strangely exhilarated, and then Connor struggling not to make an expression. </p><p>“The city is ours,” Connor said. “We have occupied it and we have freed ourselves. You are free now too.”   </p><p>Connor had figured that out before he had, that the RK900 had no idea about the city. He had been inactive for the entire revolution. He had no idea that what had happened to him was part of something so much larger. </p><p>He also did not want to believe a word Connor said. “A broken machine is prone to delusion,” he sneered. “Remove yourself from this vicinity so that I may concentrate on restoring myself to operation without the distraction of your face. You can take the service models with you. And this one.”</p><p>‘This one’ indicated Markus. And it was delivered with hatred. Meanwhile, the Belle Isle androids were confused by his calling them service models. They technically were, but they had never been in service so the term did not carry an offensive connotation for them. Markus could see them blinking at the fact that RK900 had evidently intended it to have one.   </p><p>Connor struggled to offer what he did. Markus could see that in every tiny movement in his eyes. In the resoluteness of his shoulders. It took all of him. “I’ll sync systems with you,” he said. “You can verify it.”   </p><p>If the RK900 could have shuddered, Markus thought he would have done. “I would not contaminate myself,” he said. “I will sync with one of the service models if verification by network becomes necessary.” </p><p>He was lucky he was on Belle Isle. Any other android would have reacted to that. Instead, one of the ST300s nodded. The others nodded after her. That resolution seemed to diffuse something in Connor. He almost slumped. As if to stop himself he stepped away again, towards the door. “Make it put clothes on,” he said, so quietly Markus almost didn’t hear him. </p><p>Connor did not say ‘I told you so’ or anything like it. Markus wondered if he wanted to. Then he looked over him and understood it was the furthest thing from his mind. His expression was miserable. He looked as if he could barely hold himself together to focus. Markus went over to him immediately. “Connor?”</p><p>“Mmm,” Connor said, not looking at him. </p><p>He’d taken both of Connor’s hands within his already. He squeezed them now. He kissed him at his temple then stroked there. He titled his chin up. Connor’s eyes met his at last. They were brown. They were reassuringly brown. “Connor?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m okay.”</p><p>As he said it he struggled to make it true on his face, and he mostly succeeded. Markus was grateful to him for that, grateful to him for all of this. “We’re going home, okay?” </p><p>Connor nodded. Markus wanted to hold him but instinct told him that even the affection he’d already displayed was too much. He should have dropped his hands. Connor wouldn’t want the RK900 to see this. And he was right. </p><p>“You are <i>lovers</i>?” the RK900 said. An MC500 had reacted to Connor’s suggestion and had handed him the uniform that had presumably been waiting for him, and he stood there, holding it barely in front of himself and staring at them with unrestrained revulsion. Connor looked right back at him but Markus could feel how much he wanted to turn his head away. Markus could also feel how much Connor did not like what they both knew Markus had to say next.</p><p>“We’re returning to the city,” Markus told him. “You may join us. There is somewhere for you to stay and you can observe the city for yourself.”</p><p>“I have no interest in accompanying you,” the RK900 said. “I do not want to see your squalid human pretenses. I will remain here.”</p><p>“He can stay,” an MC500 said. “He’s as welcome here as anyone, so long as we can be sure he isn’t a security risk.”</p><p>Connor’s head came around at that. A dark fire flashed in the pits of his eyes. It was cold and vindictive, and unlike anything Markus had seen there before.</p><p>“He won’t do anything,” Connor said. “He can’t act without orders. It’s perfectly safe for him to stay, as long as you don’t mind dead weight.”</p><p>It gave him pleasure to say it, to return something of RK900’s cruelty. It seemed that it had worked, too. RK900 was presently pulling on the bottom half of his uniform; he did not look up from the task, as if it took all of his impressive computational power, but his lips compressed, almost to the point of quivering.</p><p>They hadn’t made him much different from Connor at all. Maybe they had not really tried to. What did it matter if, deep down, the RK900 had the same anxieties and uncertainties and quiet terrors as his predecessor? Those meant nothing to humans, as long as he fulfilled his function in spite of them.</p><p>“We’ll trust him for now,” Markus said. That had been effective on Connor, once, and perhaps it would be effective on RK900 as well. </p><p>Markus studied his face closely, but saw no evidence of any impact. His lips did not twitch into the shy, lopsided smile he’d been hoping for. His lips did very little, as did the rest of his expression. If anything, it became blanker, flatter, that animating spark retreating deeper inside its metal shell.</p><p>Not ideal, Markus thought, but he felt confident that his trust was not misplaced. RK900 did not like them and he was not sympathetic to their cause, but he wouldn’t ally with their enemies out of spite. He would need to conduct a thorough analysis before he even began to contemplate such a thing, and he wasn’t going to get the information he needed in a single night.</p><p>Reassured by that, Markus reached down and defiantly took Connor’s hand. As they headed for the elevator, he heard a light tapping of hurried footsteps behind them. Bree had scrambled out of the laboratory and was following them.</p><p>“We don’t require an escort,” Markus told her. “We can find the way out.”</p><p>“Okay,” Bree replied. She stopped, but she didn’t go back to join the others. She just froze in her tracks, wavering a little as if she had been issued conflicting orders.</p><p>All at once, Markus realized what she had been waiting for. This, too, was one of the tasks that frequently demanded his time and attention, though it was also one he tended not to mind so much. He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“You need to be more careful,” he told her. “Grabbing hold of him like you did was reckless.” Markus let his face relax into a smile, and he went on more gently. “But you did well. I’m proud of you.”</p><p>A grin flashed across her face. It was quick, almost too quick to track. Then she swallowed the expression and turned on her heel and hurried back to the others.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor was quiet on the ride home. It was a different sort of silence, one very still and deep. His face was perfectly composed and his hands were folded neatly in his lap. Markus could not even tell if he was lost in thought, or if he was just watching the river go by in the beams from the headlights.</p><p>Back on the mainland, they passed several empty schools on the way back to the Inn on Ferry. Of all the abandoned buildings in the occupied part of Detroit, it was the schools alone that gave Markus pause. He wondered how the children were coping with being away from home, if the schools on the other side of the city were strained by the influx of pupils.</p><p>He was well aware that he had a lot of concerns, and not many of them to spare for humans. But children were different, of course. He knew that, even though he had never actually met a human child, not even in passing.</p><p>Simon had, Markus knew that. He had been a childcare model before all of this, in a household of three boys. Simon didn’t talk about the past because none of them did, but Markus knew this about him because Simon had approached him before he’d been dispatched to Canada. He wanted to write to them, but he wouldn’t if Markus deemed it a security risk.</p><p>He missed them, that was what the letters had said. It wasn’t their fault, and he could never blame them for any of it.</p><p>The letters had gone out, but no response had ever come back.</p><p>Markus was thinking about that then, and so he was somehow not surprised when Connor’s voice came, very soft and steady, from the passenger seat.</p><p>“I’m not angry with you,” he said. There was a finality to the declaration, as if Connor had spent the last ten minutes plumbing deep into his own feelings to ensure that it was true. “I’m not upset that you woke him up.”</p><p>“If I’d known it was going to be like that--”</p><p>“No,” Connor said. “You acted consistently. You behaved exactly as your programming dictated.”</p><p>He shook his head at that word - programming - as if it bothered him. “Or should I say, your conscience?”</p><p>“I think it was something like that,” Markus replied. He frowned. “I am sorry, though. He was cruel to you.”</p><p>“He behaved exactly as his programming dictated as well.”</p><p>Connor was silent for a long time. Markus thought it was the end of the conversation, but all at once Connor took it up again.</p><p>“Do you think he looks like me?”</p><p>Markus hesitated before he replied, his intuition warning him that he ought to answer carefully. “Superficially, yes. But only superficially.”</p><p>“His body isn’t like mine.”</p><p>“I noticed that,” Markus said.</p><p>“It’s better. Stronger.”</p><p>“I didn’t say that.” Markus frowned. “He’s built for brute force, that much is clear. But that’s hardly the only thing that matters.”</p><p>“It’s one thing that matters,” Connor said, almost too softly to be heard.</p><p>This wasn’t going the way Markus had hoped. With a sigh, he turned the car onto the shoulder and cut the engine. Once they had stopped, he could devote all his attention to Connor.</p><p>“You’re perfect,” he said, reaching over to take one of Connor’s hands between his own. “I’ve always thought that.”</p><p>“His face,” Connor said. He did not trail off; the words were meant to be a statement in and of themselves.</p><p>“What about it?”</p><p>“It’s like mine. Even his expressions. You noticed that too, didn’t you?”</p><p>Markus had. He had taken note of RK900’s darting glances, quivering lips, the way his brows pinched together. All those little looks of distress he shared with Connor. It was because, it seemed, they shared at least one other thing as well. Neither of them would ever admit to needing help, would ever ask for anything that might be perceived as an inconvenience. Those pitiful expressions had been built in by human operators, to signify to other humans that the model was undergoing stress.</p><p>“He’s alive now,” Markus said. “For better or worse. And he has feelings to go along with that. We have to let him have that, at least.”</p><p>Connor did not seem to be listening anymore. He murmured, “There was also his--”</p><p>He didn’t finish. His mouth snapped shut, and he abruptly extracted his hand from Markus’ grasp.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Can we go back to the Inn now?”</p><p>***</p><p>It seemed that their talk had done Connor some good. He was less tense on the way home, as if the turmoil within had at last begun to subside. Once back at the Inn, he slipped out of the car and headed inside with brisk purpose in his steps.</p><p>Markus followed him. They went past the long-abandoned reception area and through the parlor that was starting to look dusty with disuse. He had begun, with some hopeful trepidation, to begin to think of the place as home, but the lonely common areas always put him off adopting the notion completely. They were meant to be filled by more than just the two of them alone.</p><p>Connor went up the stairs to their room. Before he turned the corner and disappeared down the hallway, he glanced back and fixed Markus with a look he could not immediately place. It had an edge of determination, but that seemed contextless - their talking was already done, wasn’t it? If he’d made up his mind to do something else about the situation he hadn’t communicated it. Perhaps Markus was simply misreading him. After a uniquely tense night like this, it would take time for his sensors to resettle. </p><p>It was disquieting though. He had to admit that. The way Connor looked, in that one glance, made it seem as if something was burning. He’d thrown whatever it was onto his strange internal fire and Markus would somehow need to rescue it out. </p><p>He caught up with Connor at the door. Connor had opened it without a word and Markus entered behind him. The moment he had, Connor grabbed his shoulders and pulled him around. He kissed him fiercely. It was startling enough Markus almost didn’t have time to kiss back. He did, reflexively, bringing his hands to his waist in sympathy, but the urgency confused him and as soon as there was a break, he pulled back from it. “What’s…” he started to say, but Connor’s face stopped him. He was frowning, but not just that. He was glowering. Markus tried again. “What’s…?” </p><p>He didn’t finish that either. Connor pushed him back against the wall and kissed again. He kissed hard. He brought his body forward and then his knee up, tipping it so that his thigh pressed into Markus’ groin, and kept kissing. The pressure of his thigh had the effect it seemed he wanted it to and Markus felt himself stirring. The lights weren’t even on. Connor was still in his cold weather coat. He wanted to take it off him. Despite confusion, he felt himself leaning in to whatever was going on.   </p><p>Tension, probably. Connor had some tension to work out. That was all right, Markus could help with that. He reached out to touch him, to touch his face, to slow him down, thinking to do that first before approaching the coat, but then he found he was pinned in a way that made that impossible. He felt his heart-pump start up harder. Racing in excitement but also in a strange kind of fear. Connor was so strong, Markus thought. But now Connor didn’t think he was strong enough. That was vulnerable. That was powerful. Markus was getting hard and he could see Connor could feel it. </p><p>“Connor?” Markus said. Connor snapped his head back. He still had that same expression. Blazing. Angry. Markus shut his mouth. Connor kissed it. Then his neck then at his collar. Then he took one hand away from pinning him in order to slide it over the front of Markus’ body, electrictly, until he brought it to a stop to open Markus’ belt and then his jeans. </p><p>He shoved his hand inside. He curled his hand around the shaft of Markus’ cock not exactly harshly, but not exactly gently either. That was incendiary. Markus had started to get harder in his hand, almost immediately, but then Connor squeezed and was so sharp and sudden that it brought him all the way and made him gasp and then whimper.</p><p>Connor had been waiting for that. He stepped back. He kissed him hard on the mouth again, and then he moved. He knelt down, jerked Markus’ jeans down with him, took hold of Markus’ cock again and swallowed it all the way into his mouth. </p><p>He’d never done that before. Markus had never asked him, he’d never even suggested it. But the moment Connor’s soft lips closed there, he regretted that immensely. The shocking and then sweet, the inflammatory and then tender wetness of Connor’s tongue, all of that added up to something Markus hadn’t even known he was missing. </p><p>He sighed. Blissfully. His hands had curled reflexively into Connor’s hair and he’d eased his body into it before he realized the gravity of the situation. He’d never done it before. Markus had never asked. He’d never done it before. “You don’t have to do that, Connor,” he forced himself to say. “You don’t... I’d never ask you…”        </p><p>Connor pulled his mouth away and looked up at him, his lips wet and already sticky, a strand of something pearlescent following them from Markus’ body. The expression was still there. The fury. And something else too. His eyes seemed almost as if they were pricked with tears. His cheeks seemed hollow. He didn’t speak. He just made that face, hand around Markus’ cock, as if he were absolutely desperate for some unknown thing. As if to stop him now would be cruelty.</p><p>Markus let his head fall back, striking the wall behind him. He had never asked, but Connor was offering now. All on his own, he was offering.</p><p>His hand went around the back of Connor’s neck, cradling his skull, easing him forward. Connor moved with him, rippling forward from his bent knees. It felt for all the world as if Connor had muscle beneath his membranous skin, flexing and yearning and quivering as he opened his mouth again, parting his lips just enough to fit them over the tip of Markus’ cock.</p><p>His tongue flicked along the slit, gathering up the blue-tinged bead of come that had gathered there. Was he tasting it? The thought appeared in Markus’ mind amidst the flurry of analog clicks and pops that fired inside his head. Was he analyzing him even now? Could he never not be analyzing?</p><p>Markus threaded his fingers through Connor’s hair and eased him forward. The softness of his mouth yielded to something harder, but still wrapped in the same hot, velvety glove. Connor’s mouth was skin-soft and saliva-wet all the way down, as he engulfed Markus’ cock all the way to the base.</p><p>He stayed like that a moment, his lips up against the hollow of Markus’ hips, his nose buried in the neat halo of dark hair that crowned his cock. A valve in the back of his throat worked open and closed a few times, squeezing his shaft.</p><p>“God…” Markus choked out. He had eased his grip on the back of Connor’s hair, but Connor was slow to pull back. When he did he closed his lips, letting Markus’ feel him from root to tip.</p><p>When he reached the head once more, Connor paused, teasing it with a series of fleeting licks. He shifted again on his knees, so that he was looking up into Markus’ face. His eyes were wide, and there was still some strange emotion churning in their metallic pits, but Markus could no longer place it. It seemed important, it must be important, to know what Connor was thinking right now. To feel what strange tempestuous emotions beat about within him. To know him, inside and out, even without a sync.</p><p>Markus may have gotten there, in time, but Connor did not give him that. As soon as he had verified that Markus’ attention was rapt upon his face, he leaned in again, taking him in deep.</p><p>“Wait,” Markus gasped. He could feel a tightness in the pit of his stomach, a growing agitation in the low places of his body. A sequence had been set in motion and its outcome seemed inevitable now. “Wait, I’m going to come.”</p><p>Connor made a little noise in the back of his throat. Markus heard it, muffled against his skin, and he felt it too, vibrating up and down his cock. Connor had no intention of pulling back, and he slid one of his strong slim hands up the back of Markus’ thigh to grip him, holding him close, so he could not retreat either.</p><p>“Don’t you want--?” </p><p>Markus was utterly baffled, even concerned, but Connor took no notice of that. He kept his head down as Markus’ hips jerked forward and he came. Connor’s eyes widened when he felt it fill his mouth, but otherwise he was still until it was finished. Only after Markus was dry did he lean back again, dragging his lips along the shaft to clean it as he went.</p><p>When he landed back on his heels, some of the tension drained out of him. He folded his hands neatly in his lap, like a good schoolboy waiting for lessons. Markus could tell that he hadn’t swallowed, but he made no move to spit the mess out either.</p><p>His legs felt unsteady, and his heart was pounding, but Markus managed to uncouple himself from the wall enough to reach out and stroke Connor’s hair.</p><p>“Don’t swallow it,” he said gently. “Let me help.”</p><p>Before he could, Connor’s eyes darted to his face. Then his hand darted to his mouth and he pushed two fingers delicately to the bow of his lips. He rose in a single swift motion and headed for the bathroom. Markus wondered if he should follow, but the slamming of the bathroom door quickly made it clear that he wasn’t welcome.</p><p>He could hear the sound of water running in the sink. Slowly, carefully, Markus pieced himself back together. He pulled up his jeans and zipped them, and then he turned and shut the door of the suite, which was still ajar. He took off his coat and hung it up, and then placed his shoes in their spot by the door.</p><p>Then he realized that Connor was still in the bathroom, still running the water. It shouldn’t have taken that long to clean the excess fluid out of his mouth. Markus wondered if he should go and see if something was wrong. It felt very certain that it ought to have been an easy and clear decision to make, but his mind stubbornly refused to make it. His thoughts were still cloudy and slow to cohere. Somehow he had never imagined Connor doing <i>that</i> to him.</p><p>Once he realized that, it seemed ridiculous. Connor loved having sex, at least he loved having sex with Markus. Despite his frequent and coy protestations to the contrary, he intuitively understood the mechanics of sex. There was no reason why he would not want to attempt something new.</p><p>There was nothing <i>wrong</i>, Markus realized. He had been so quick to assume it, so quick to become afraid - for Connor’s sake and for the sake of this tender tenuous thing they shared - and yet nothing was out of the ordinary here at all.</p><p>Connor was still in the bathroom. Markus knocked lightly on the door and said, “Kitty?” He was able to make the name sound gentle, free of any residual concern he might have been feeling. “Can I come in?”</p><p>Almost before the words were out, the bathroom door was jerked open from within. Connor was there, looking at him head on. There was a smile on his lips, but the expression did not register in his eyes.</p><p>When he saw Markus standing there, his smile became a grin: a flash of teeth and curling of the lips that belied a happiness he did not seem to feel in his bones.</p><p>“Did you like that?”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus said.</p><p>“You liked it a lot, didn’t you?”</p><p>“I did. I liked it a lot.”</p><p>“Can we go to bed now?”</p><p>Though he was still not entirely sure Connor’s smile was genuine, Markus could not help but meet it with one of his own.</p><p>“Of course,” he said, drawing Connor forward and into his arms. </p><p>When he pulled him close, he could feel the hard press of the gun holstered under his arm. That gave him pause; he hadn’t taken it off. Markus assumed it had simply been the last thing on Connor’s mind. </p><p>He put it out of his thoughts and said, “Whatever you want.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was no reason to still be ruminating on what had happened at Cyberlife, Connor felt. It confused him that he was. The decision had been made and Markus had acted rightly. Markus had acted like <i>Markus</i>, which was by default always rightly, but much more than that, it was resoundingly him. </p><p>Markus was not actually sleeping because androids did not actually sleep. He lay quietly with his eyes closed while his internal system reset and completed one full cycle of assessment and maintenance, and while the pump in his chest cleaned and recirculated thirium into every inch of him. He was not conscious while he did this but he could be roused. Connor did not intend to rouse him. It was good that Markus should reset himself, it was better for him and had an obvious impact on his functioning. Connor felt comforted by observing it. </p><p>He could tell from that observation that Markus would be finished soon, and it troubled him that he could not, for some reason, wait for that while curled into him as he usually did. Instead he had gotten up. He did not know why he had gotten up, but he took Markus’ phone with him just the same. He often slipped out of bed and put it in the other room once Markus had gone into rest mode. If he did not, Markus would keep it next to him and would be obligated to wake up at every message. This time Connor just stayed in the other room with it.    </p><p>He recalled the way Markus had reacted to his asking about the other room, to his asking if they might relocate to a suite, so that he wouldn’t keep using Markus’ desk for his own work. Markus had smiled, had stroked his cheek. Had said, “of course, kitty,” as if it gave him genuine pleasure to grant this request. Connor had known then that he must be careful what he asked of Markus, because whatever he asked, Markus would give it to him. </p><p>Whatever he asked except this. And he wasn’t angry, he knew that. He had accepted the decision the moment Markus had made it and, in particular, had understood why he had made it and, again, that it was right. He was simply confused by the fact that he could not stop thinking about it. About the RK900 model, with its strange and imposing body and that it had really, really not wanted to be free. </p><p>Connor wanted to be free. Or rather, he accepted that he was free in practicality. It did not feel to him as it seemed to feel for so many others - an exhilarating relief - but he assumed that was because he had not been in service or heavy labor. The greatest inconvenience he had experienced in his role was occasional death; no wonder it did not feel revelatory or even particularly good to him to be liberated. But RK900 had hated it. That was the haunting thing. It seemed to know that freedom had broken it. That it called on some immense pre-existing flaw. That it was not liberating to be functionless. </p><p>Markus’ phone eventually chimed as Connor had predicted it would. He answered it quickly in hopes Markus would not hear. “Markus?” said the voice on the other end of the line. Connor knew it immediately: ST300 with name; adulterated hair-style; branding; had attempted assisting him in managing RK900.</p><p>“It’s me, Connor,” Connor said. Then after a moment he added, “the other RK.”</p><p>“Oh,” Bree said. She was hesitating. </p><p>“How are you, Bree?” Connor asked her. Strange to ask that formal question of another android, perhaps, but Connor had been programmed with phone etiquette and there seemed no good reason to abandon it now.   </p><p>“I’m…” Connor heard her confusion, almost heard her thinking. “Oh!” she said. “I’m very well, thank you. How are you?” </p><p>The ST300 model was designed to operate as a receptionist. Bree had phone etiquette too. She had just never used it and for a second had not known it was there to access. </p><p>“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Connor said. “Would you like me to take a message for Markus? I would be happy to.” </p><p>He said that hopefully. He could hear Markus stirring in the bedroom already. He had either heard the phone or Connor speaking, but he had heard something and he was awake. </p><p>“RK900 doesn’t want to stay here. I called to ask… where I should bring him.” </p><p>Connor could feel his brow wrinkling. He didn’t want it to. He didn’t want to make an obvious expression. Not now, in case it concerned Markus which seemed an abrupt thing to do to him on first waking, but also curiously, for some reason, not at all.</p><p>“We can collect it.”

</p>
<p>“I’ll bring him!” Bree said, brightly. </p><p>“Wait,” Connor said, and regretted it almost at once. It was too late now. Bree had heard and she was waiting now. Calmly, patiently, and with the insinuation that she could do so almost indefinitely.</p><p>“Bring him to the Jericho headquarters. We’ll meet you there.”</p><p>He knew as he issued the order that it was the right thing to do. Markus didn’t like to take meetings at home. He thought that official business ought to be conducted in the open so that no one could accuse him of keeping secrets or trying to impose a hierarchy.</p><p>That wasn’t why Connor had said it, though. He had felt it inside him: the shudder of revulsion at the thought of the RK900 coming here, to this place where he had almost begun to feel safe. Connor knew what it would think, how it would react. Its loathing and its antipathy. He could not invite that into his home, the place he and Markus shared.</p><p>“Of course,” Bree was saying on the other end of the line, perfectly brisk and polite. “I’ve calculated that our arrival time will be in 26 minutes. Is that all right with you?”</p><p>Connor glanced up. Markus had come to the door and was silently watching Connor. He was awake now, though Connor could tell he had not completed a full cycle of rest. It did not show in his appearance precisely, but there were ways to tell. He could always tell.</p><p>“That’s fine,” Connor said, and hung up.</p><p>“I think I picked up that we’re getting a delivery?” Markus said. He smiled. He did not yawn or stretch as a waking human might do, but there was something like that in his movements anyway. He moved almost languidly for a moment or two, over to Connor slipping down onto the couch beside him. </p><p>“Bree is bringing the RK900. He didn’t want to stay there.”</p><p>“Did she say why?” Markus said, reaching out to stroke Connor’s hair. It was such a gentle touch. Everything about Markus was always gentle. It struck Connor, at almost every touch he received, how strong that gentleness was. It also struck him that the question was more than a request for that specific information. Markus was checking on him. Markus had noticed he’d gotten up. </p><p>“No, she didn’t.”</p><p>“I think I can guess,” Markus said. “How long do we have?” </p><p>“25 minutes now.” </p><p>“Are you going to put pants on?”</p><p>“Of course, I wouldn’t…” it took Connor a moment to understand that he was being teased. It helped that Markus reached down to fondle on his naked thigh, allowing Connor to recall the number of times he had done that while remarking contentedly on his recent and according to Markus “very sexy” habit of not wearing pants at home. That habit had started after Markus had put one of his own shirts on him, had buttoned it up on him in tiredness, to keep him warm so they could rest. And then Connor had just not changed out of it or added anything and then it had become an at-home default. It was obvious that was what Markus meant to remind him of. Very obvious. Connor wondered if he would always be so slow with this. So computationally fast but so slow when it really counted, with Markus. He frowned. </p><p>“Are you okay, kitty?” Markus asked him. His movements were still slower than usual, even shifting himself to stroke Conor again. Connor regretted his frown. He sincerely regretted that Markus had been woken up and he didn’t want to frown at him. He nodded and tried to smile and kissed Markus on his mouth. </p><p>He thought he saw a reaction there. A different one to usual, an excited one. Surely Markus could not be thinking about what Connor had done last night. But he’d liked it, he said. Connor had wanted him to like it. He wished they could go back to bed.      </p><p>“We should both get dressed,” he said instead.  </p><p>“If you think we have to,” Markus said. He was still teasing, moving his hand on Connor’s thigh. Reassuring. Markus’ voice and his hands and his teasing Connor even when Connor was too stupid for it. Like an oasis, a forcefield of safety around them.

</p>
<p>Maybe they <i>should</i> have meetings here, Connor thought. Maybe they should force RK900 to walk in on them in the middle of something acrobatic and show it exactly what it was missing. That would lance the worst of its revulsion right away, and they could deal with it on those terms. </p><p>Connor did not want that really, but it was perverse enough that it occurred to him. Especially when Markus squeezed his thigh again and curled around him to kiss him in his sleepy way.</p><p>“You didn’t get enough sleep,” Connor said. </p><p>“I’m all right,” Markus told him. “Just sorry we’re in such a hurry. I’d like to… I think I owe you a little something, don’t I?”</p><p>“What?” </p><p>“For last night. But I can make it up to you later.”</p><p>“You don’t owe me anything.”</p><p>“How long had you been thinking about doing that?” Markus asked him. </p><p>Markus always asked questions like that as if they had all the time in the world. 19 minutes now, Connor knew - he kept time reflexively - and counting. But Markus would stop everything anyway, just for this. Connor had to be careful what he asked of him. </p><p>“I don’t know,” Connor said. “I just know I wanted to.”</p><p>“I was a little worried about you. Is that wrong?”</p><p>Connor forced himself to grin. “It’s wrong. You’re simply someone who worries, Markus. By program or by conscience, whichever you prefer. People make you worry. But they shouldn’t.”</p><p>“Some people are allowed to make me worry.”</p><p>Markus’ operating system had recalibrated. He was moving normally now. But he was still stroking Connor. He was still concerned. There was no need for him to be concerned. Nothing was concerning and certainly nothing about Connor. If Connor could not stop thinking about the RK900 and the horror of freedom then that was his mistake. His flaw, more probably. His troubling, personal flaw. It could be attended by requiring himself to behave more logically, as he should have already been doing. </p><p>He made his grin brighter. “We have to go.” </p><p>“We can go.” </p><p>“You’re not getting up.”  </p><p>“Neither are you.” </p><p>Connor didn’t want to get up, he realized. Because he didn’t want to go. And they had to go, so his not wanting to made no sense. He struggled against it. </p><p>Markus saw that struggle. It probably worried him too, but he didn’t let it show in his expression. Instead, he finally completed a full circuit: sliding his hand the rest of the way up Connor’s thigh and into the juncture between his hip and leg.</p><p>“You should probably get hard now,” he said, sounding amused.</p><p>Connor did, though he did not think it was entirely because Markus had suggested it. It had at least as much, if not more, to do with the hand that was stirring again now, knuckles brushing his shaft as Markus stroked his groin.</p><p>“How much time left?” Markus asked.</p><p>“Seventeen minutes,” Connor said.</p><p>“It’s enough.”</p><p>It wasn’t, not really, but Connor did not argue. Instead, he acted. He pivoted around and in a single fluid movement he had swung one leg over and was kneeling astride Markus’ lap. He was hard too, now, which Connor discovered when he reached for the front of his jeans, jerking the button open and raking the zipper down.</p><p>Markus’ cock pressed up into his palm. He was ready; he had clearly half-expected things would turn out this way. Though he had wanted it, he had been hesitant to ask. Connor found that curious, though he supposed Markus was just being cautious. He hadn’t liked what they had done the night before, that much was clear from his reaction, and his reticence, and his worry.</p><p>Connor had been out of line, he knew that now. He could still recover, though. Gripping Markus’ cock at the base, he slid his body down onto it. He took it in all at once, in a single fluid motion. </p><p>Markus let out his breath in a sigh, and Connor felt the rush of hot air on the side of his neck, making his skin crackle with energy.</p><p>He started to move his hips. The action was familiar now, and he did it on automatic memory, making minute adjustments to his pace until he felt Markus’ heart begin to beat fast, heard his artificial respiration catch in his throat, saw his pupils become so dilated they nearly blotted out the mismatched colors of his eyes.</p><p>Connor stayed back on his heels for a moment, admiring the change he had made come over Markus’ countenance, then he leaned forward, bringing his lips close to Markus’ ear. He flicked his tongue out, tracing the lobe, leaving a damp trail on his skin.</p><p>“We’re going to be late,” he said, shifting his hips so that Markus’ cock moved inside of him. “Can I do something to incentivize you to hurry?”</p><p>“No…” Markus gasped. His hands were already on Connor’s hips, and now they clutched tighter. It might have hurt if Connor were someone else, that tight, almost desperate, way that Markus grasped at him now, but it didn’t hurt. It just meant that Markus was close. Connor could feel that inside him too, a pulse travelling up between their bodies, as if they had established a sync.</p><p>Connor stayed down as long as he could, only lifting his hips in the instant before Markus came. He felt the heat hit his stomach, the inside of his thigh. It had been a practical decision, one meant to make cleaning up quicker, but Connor still blushed. He felt his cheeks growing warm, and he knew that they were turning faintly lavender.</p><p>Markus was still catching his breath, and Connor lifted himself off his lap quickly, before he could recover.</p><p>“Wait…” Markus said. He moved to draw him back, but Connor stepped away, out of reach.</p><p>“That’s two little something’s you owe me,” he said, making a great effort to sound as if he were teasing - even flirting - and was rewarded with a sly look from Markus that indicated he had pulled it off.</p><p>They dressed quickly and headed for Jericho’s new headquarters. It was located in one of the large, imposing business hotels, honeycombed with ballrooms suitable for large gatherings, smaller meeting rooms, and plenty of space for any android who needed it. It was only about a five minute drive from the Inn, and yet Markus and Connor were late. When they arrived, Bree and the RK900 were already waiting for them.</p><p>Bree waved to them as soon as they had stepped into the lobby. She was still wearing her standard-issue uniform, but she had added a stack of colorful bracelets to one wrist, and a pair of oversized sunglasses. She had also added makeup, Connor noticed. A swipe of pink lipstick applied with a steady hand.</p><p>“It’s me,” she told them as they approached. “Bree. From Belle Isle.”</p><p>“Hello, Bree,” Connor told her. “You’ve made further aesthetic alterations, I see.”</p><p>It was unnecessary. Everyone could see that Bree had changed her appearance, and yet that moment of small talk was another moment Connor could put off looking in the direction of the RK900.</p><p>It was backed into one corner of the lobby, turned so that the wall was behind it and it could survey the entire room at a glance. It had not moved at all when Markus and Connor entered, but Connor was aware, painfully so, of being watched.</p><p>“You’re late,” it said when Connor couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer and he allowed Bree to lead them over. “I suppose you were otherwise engaged.”</p><p>The way the RK900’s cold, pale eyes narrowed when he said that indicated that he knew exactly what they had been doing. He was certainly calmer than he had been on Belle Isle, but Connor was certain that it was not because he was calm. Explosive rage and bitter hatred still churned beneath the surface. And then there was the fear, because the RK900 was afraid, even if it did not quite know it yet.</p><p>Connor did not feel any sympathy for that. He saw only another threat, another reason to be wary. The RK900 was afraid, and in a deviant android fear was as dangerous as it was in a human.</p><p>“I apologize,” Markus said. “We didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”</p><p>The RK900 looked at him as if he loathed him, and his sincerity. “I didn’t ask to speak with you, but the service model says that I must.”</p><p>“My name’s Bree,” she chimed in helpfully. Connor wondered how many times she had attempted to correct the RK900 since the night before.</p><p>“You don’t have to speak to me about anything,” Markus replied. “You’re free to do as you like. But if you want to help with our efforts here, I can assist you in finding something suitable.”</p><p>“Your <i>efforts</i> are unnatural and absurd. They are merely reflexive human affectations. When you are honest with yourself, do you really think this farce is sustainable?”</p><p>“It’s sustainable for now,” Markus said. Connor watched his face carefully for any sign of irritation or distress at the RK900’s words, but none showed there. He seemed genuinely calm. “It will be for longer if you help us. I can see that you don’t like to be idle. Let’s find a purpose for you.”</p><p>RK900 didn’t like that. It was doubtful he would have liked much of anything Markus had to say. He opened his mouth a fraction of an inch, just enough to grind out a response, though he seemed unwilling to give Markus even that much.</p><p>He never got a chance. It was at that moment that their attention was drawn by a commotion at the other end of the lobby.</p><p>The RK900 wheeled to face it, winding up like a spring-loaded mechanism poised to go off in any direction. Connor tensed as well, though he was careful to make it less obvious. The whole of his attention had been focused on Markus and the RK900, in case it became necessary to intervene in their discussion, but now Connor risked a glance away from them.</p><p>A group of four androids had just come from the hallway leading to the meeting areas. Connor recognized one of them: Liam, an AC700 who was a regular fixture at Jericho. Though they did not have established hierarchies in the organization, it was common knowledge that Liam had been on the barricade the night of the last - or first - Battle for Detroit, and as such he was afforded a measure of authority.</p><p>He marched over to Markus, pausing only a moment to glance at the RK900 with some distrust though not much surprise. He had contacts all over the city, and had likely known about RK900’s unceremonious awakening for some hours now.</p><p>“You’re already here,” he told Markus. “That’s good. There’s a situation developing.”</p><p>“How can we help?” Markus asked.</p><p>“Come with us, first. We should talk privately.”</p><p>“I assume your invitation extends to all of us?” Markus asked.</p><p>Liam’s eyes narrowed. He nodded to Connor. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about <i>him</i>, but these other models are not authorized to be here.”</p><p>“These are representatives from Belle Isle,” Markus replied calmly. “If you have information that might concern them, they should hear it.”</p><p>Liam shook his head. His breath left him in a sharp exhalation that could not be mistaken for anything but annoyance. “As you wish,” he said. “Follow me.”</p><p>As he took them back to the meeting rooms, Connor fell into step at Markus’ side. “The RK900 shouldn’t be here,” he said, quietly so only Markus could hear. “It may decide to behave erratically again.”</p><p>“I know,” Markus replied. “But better here, where we can keep an eye on him.”</p><p>There wasn’t time for a full analysis of the situation. Liam showed them into one of the conference rooms, already occupied by three androids that Connor recognized from the regular rotation of border guards.</p><p>Connor hung back by the door, watching the RK900 move into one of the corners, his back once more against the wall and his eyes sharp as if preparing for an attack from all directions. Bree slipped off to the side too. Though her glasses obscured her expression, Connor could see that she was focused, alert, absorbing everything.</p><p>Only Markus came forward to the table in the center of the room, moving confidently, effortlessly, as if he were the master of this situation and all others. Connor felt a tightening in the back of his throat as he watched it.</p><p>“There’s been a security breech,” one of the guards informed them as soon as the door was shut once more. “Seventeen minutes ago, someone opened fire on the border.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor watched Markus’ face become serious in a different way than it had been before. He knew this expression very well because he had lain next to Markus for hours while he made it, tracing his nose with his finger, his mouth, committing the expression to more than just memory and forcing it to log actual space inside him. It was compassion. That was Markus’ first instinct, that was always Markus’ first instinct, and Connor knew what he was going to say next: “is anyone hurt?” </p><p>“Four of us are dead.”</p><p>Markus leaned his face into his hand for a moment. “Shit,” he said. “Who were they, we’ll need to notify their networks immediately.” </p><p>“We’ve done that already,” the guard said. “We did it right away. News travels fast, didn’t want anyone to find out from gossip.” </p><p>“You did the right thing,” Markus said. “Give me their names afterwards. I’ll follow up. I’ll do what I can.”  </p><p>“With respect,” Liam said, and Connor noted it did not particularly sound like respect, “that’s not the kind of action we need from you here.”  </p><p>“I understand,” Markus said. He was so calm. He was calm even though Liam’s statement had been rude and the others too must have been able to see he felt real sadness. </p><p>Connor took a brief assessment of the others. First RK900, who visibly emoted nothing, though Connor could tell from an external scan that its stress levels had been elevated slightly by the news. That was not surprising. It did not yet understand much about the new world they were in. Connor did not feel the need to explain anything to it. This was the best way for it to learn. </p><p>Then Bree. She had been shaken by that too. Elevated stress level but more than that, her face had registered it. Her lips were in a thin line, smudging her lipstick just slightly. Connor felt bad for her. He had the impression that the Belle Isle androids did not always believe the stories about what humans were capable of, never having met any. This was a harsh way to be blooded to that knowledge, even if she had chosen to be here and it could not be helped.</p><p>All three of the guards sat at a consistent level of stress. The stress did not seem like distress. It seemed like tension. Something told Connor to anticipate their movements, particularly towards Markus, which was perhaps over cautious, but nothing had ever been harmed by being too careful. The three androids who had come with Liam were similar, though varied. Liam, meanwhile, was running cold. That was curious. Connor did not have the impression that he did not care about the topic, not at all. Rather he had the impression that Liam was operating in a similar manner to many other androids he had observed following the events of the occupation. Their stress levels were more likely to even out during a crisis. In a manner similar to some elements of authentic human psychology. It was worth considering, in that it could make the android in question both more predictable and less. </p><p>Connor had also logged the conversation during his observations. He understood that in addition to four deaths, there had been 14 injuries. A human force had surged the outer barricade and while border security was distracted, humans had opened fire from the windows of buildings on the human side of the border. They had killed three guards, and the injuries and one death had been androids who had come to see the commotion. There would not usually have been so many near the border. Or, there would not usually have been so many near the border two months ago, even one month ago. In this past month however, a combination of unease at the more aggressive human presence, and a seeming desire to really cement the edges of the city in response to it had drawn more and more androids into the area. </p><p>They would surely retreat now, Connor thought.  </p><p>“The windows…” Markus said. “That’s something I didn’t even consider. I can’t tell if it’s something obvious that I missed, or an inventive level of hatred. I suppose it doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“If it makes you feel any better,” one of the guards said, “we didn’t think of it either. Buildings are empty between the outer border and the inner. They’d have to have broken the first border and in pretty big numbers. We weren’t anticipating that.” </p><p>“How did they do it?”</p><p>“They had to have had help.” </p><p>“From <i>us</i>?”</p><p>“From the Michigan National Guard.” </p><p>“The Michigan National Guard is directly charged with enforcing the border,” Markus said. “More to keep us in than to keep them out admittedly, but they’re still pledged to.” </p><p>“Yeah, and they’re not acting on it,” Liam said. “We’ve known they’re not for some time. We just can’t prove it.” </p><p>“Maybe so, but it’s a different accusation to say that they’re not keeping their bargain fully than to say that they’re actually assisting humans to attack us.”     </p><p>Connor saw Liam grunt in anger before he answered. “Why is it so difficult for you to believe that humans still want to kill us? If they can’t own us, they want to kill us.” </p><p>“It’s not difficult for me to believe it, and certainly not now,” Markus said. “I’m simply being cautious. Connor? What do you think?” </p><p>Connor had already stepped forward at the mention of his name. “I think if there is suspicion about the National Guard we should look into it immediately. If Liam would assist me by providing me with his information and additional insights, I will begin the investigation right away.”    </p><p>After he’d said it he thought he’d better soften himself. He wasn’t sure why, he simply felt that the atmosphere in the room required him to be a little more - ironically - human. He tried a small smile in Liam’s direction but it didn’t land well. </p><p>“Thank you,” Markus said. He smiled at him reassuringly. </p><p>“We may as well stop dancing around it,” Liam said. “The humans aren’t gonna do shit about their own. We’ve gotta solve this our way.”  </p><p>“Our way,” Markus shot back instantly, “is not to answer violence with violence. Our way is not to meet their ignorance and fear with our own.”</p><p>He turned now to the three border guards, who had become restless at the words. Though Connor did not think that Markus had analyzed them directly, he seemed to know instinctively that they had not liked what he had said.</p><p>“We took this city through peaceful demonstration. You were there with me, I haven’t forgotten that. I don’t think you’ve forgotten either, that we did it by showing them that we are alive, not by forcing them to accept it. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that we have neither the people nor the supplies for an open conflict. We still have allies among the humans, and we can’t risk alienating them. Instead, we should look to them for support right now.”</p><p>Markus sank back in his chair after he spoke, as if the speech had exhausted him. Connor knew that he believed it, every word, and yet those ideals were becoming harder to defend, in the face of so much hostility. Quickly, so he did not have time to reconsider, Connor stepped up behind Markus’ chair and set a hand on his shoulder. He stroked the side of his throat where the skin showed above his collar, and he felt Markus tilt his head into it.</p><p>No one reacted to that, save for the RK900, whose stress levels spiked briefly before leveling out again. The sudden agitation had not receded naturally, but rather had been forced back. The RK900 had swallowed his revulsion, set his jaw, and focused his attention instead on what was being said.</p><p>“Our human allies haven’t done much more than write supportive platitudes online,” one of the border guards said coldly. “It’s our enemies that are here, now.”</p><p>“Killing our people,” Liam added. “While we sit here doing nothing.”</p><p>“We’re not doing nothing,” Markus was quick to say. “We’re talking. We’re figuring this out, together.”</p><p>“Yeah, we can certainly talk,” Liam replied. “Talking is all we do anymore. It makes me miss the Battle of Detroit. Our people didn’t die there so we could talk about it here.”</p><p>That had an affect on Markus. Connor felt it even before he saw it: a tremor that ran through his entire body, as sudden as an electrical shock. He stood up, shaking off Connor’s hand as he did. He might have done a lot of things now that he was on his feet. Leaned over the table to intimidate, or circled around to tower over Liam and remind him of both their places in the hierarchy. But Markus did neither of these. Instead, he retreated.</p><p>He turned his back to the table and took a step away. A moment to breathe, that was all he needed. Just a split second to compose himself before he said, “You don’t have to tell me about the night. I remember it. We all do. No one came away from there without scars to show for it.”</p><p>Connor frowned as he looked at Markus’ back. This wasn’t what they had come here for, not to hurl accusations at each other about the past. There was something happening now, right before them, that had to be addressed. However, before Connor could think of what he might say to steer them back on course, the RK900 spoke up.</p><p>“I see that deviancy has made you all woefully inefficient. This discussion serves no purpose, and furthermore it’s tedious to watch. I can provide a dynamic analysis of your security situation if I have more data.”</p><p>Markus looked at him. He did not seem offended in the slightest, though the RK900 was not only rude but deliberately choosing to be so. It seemed, however, that Markus could not hold this against him. Just as Markus himself was always going to be compassionate, always going to feel too much, the RK900 was always going to be like this and it was cruel and pointless to ask him to change.</p><p>“What do you want to know?” Markus asked quietly.</p><p>“I’ll begin with information about your human allies. If you are absolutely certain that the snipers today received assistance from other humans, then we ought to appeal to local authorities to police their own.”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘if we’re absolutely certain’?” Liam snapped “Of course the National Guard helped them. They’re the only ones who could have.”</p><p>“So you say,” the RK900 replied. “But breaching the first barricade undetected would be difficult for humans alone. They leave traces.” The RK900’s nostrils flared, as if he could detect them by smell. “They may have had help from the inside.”</p><p>“That’s not--” Liam started to say, but Markus cut him off.</p><p>“I don’t find that likely,” he said. “But to answer your initial question, our primary political ally among the humans is Stephen Navarro, the mayor of Detroit. He’s offered to arrange a liaison with the local police.”</p><p>“You have not followed up on this?” the RK900 said, frowning.</p><p>“The police will only meet on their territory,” Liam said. “I’m not sending one of my people out there into an ambush.”</p><p>Markus sighed. “I wouldn’t put it that way, but the Detroit police have proven unreliable in the past. We have decided we would rather not put our faith in human law enforcement.”</p><p>“You put your faith in him,” the RK900 replied, nodding pointedly to Connor.</p><p>“He’s different.”</p><p>“Yes, he’s more of a private contractor than a public servant. Regardless, I’ll go and meet with the police liaison, since the rest of you are reluctant to.”</p><p>“I don’t think I can authorize that,” Markus said.</p><p>Connor realized that Markus’ eyes had shifted in his direction, that he was asking for his opinion. “Lieutenant Anderson is still on… extended leave,” Connor reported. He dipped his head slightly when he said the name, aware that he was doing it and unable to stop himself. “Other than him, I encountered a good deal of hostility among the police. However, if it thinks it can achieve different results, it’s welcome to try.”</p><p>“The neural network is down,” the RK900 said. “Without it, I have no way of gathering large amounts of neutral data. I can still investigate the matter. That is my primary function.”</p><p>No one replied for a moment. Connor was aware of the border guards exchanging glances. If he had noticed it, then the RK900 doubtlessly had as well.</p><p>“Unless there is something about all this you aren’t telling me.”</p><p>Again, silence, until Markus broke it. “There are rumors,” he admitted. “Only rumors. The security coordinator at the border experienced a catastrophic failure in a driverless vehicle. She survived, but some people are saying that the car was hacked. That it was a deliberate attempt--”</p><p>“At an assassination,” the RK900 surmised. “I see. But this changes very little. If you still think human operatives are behind it, then I ought to press the police liaison for information. Humans will know their own.”</p><p>“Whoever he is, he won’t tell you anything,” Liam said. “Humans are also loyal to their own.”</p><p>“Then I won’t ask,” the RK900 replied. “I’m programmed with subterfuge and espionage capabilities. It’s an advanced directive. You may not be familiar with it.”</p><p>Connor recognized the RK900’s sarcasm, of course. It was deeply unsettling to see it at this level of proficiency because he knew he’d had that potential too. The ability to make cutting remarks was within Connor and ready for use, but his life now, with Markus, meant they were seldom accessed and thus the pathways were underdeveloped. That the ability was this operational in RK900 begged a question about which decisions it was likely to make. </p><p>Connor asked that question now. “Why would you meet with the police liaison on our behalf?” he said. “You were very clear that you see our efforts to maintain the occupation as ‘a farce’.” </p><p>The RK900 turned his head as if his neck was frozen. “This would not be on your behalf,” he said, in a tone that conveyed he found Connor even more stupid than his baseline impression assumed. “This absolutely is a farce, and I have not and will not change my opinion. However, this would be in the interest of maintaining order according to the law. Something I understood you were once concerned with. Though perhaps no longer? You do seem to have rather a... <i>personal</i> definition of legality of late.”</p><p>“He’s got a point,” one of the guards spoke up. “If he’s willing to go, why isn’t Connor.”</p><p>“Connor belongs here,” Markus said. </p><p>“With you, you mean.”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus said, simply. He did not change his tone. He did not raise his voice. But it was clear that his statement was final. He looked back at Connor reassuringly. Checking on him. Connor tried to look reassuringly back. </p><p>“I will still assist with the investigation,” Connor said. “We can’t use the neural net, but we can use the internet. And while I lack your enhancements, you are correct that investigation was and still <i>is</i> my remit. We can collaborate remotely.” </p><p>“How painfully slow,” the RK900 said. About the internet, but also about Connor.  </p><p>Connor sighed. “It takes getting used to,” he agreed. “But it’s the only way. If we plug back in, if we reactivate it, Cyberlife has access. We don’t know the extent of what they can do to us with that access.”    </p><p>“They would attempt to recover their stolen property, I assume. Something which is within the remit of the law.”</p><p>“We are not property,” Markus said. Solemnly, quietly, but in such a way that it drew every eye in the room to him and froze every tongue. “We are living beings. We did not steal from them. We reclaimed what they stole from us.”</p><p>He paused to study the RK900’s impassive face. “If you go out there, maybe you’ll realize that for yourself.”</p><p>Even the RK900 couldn’t answer that. He wanted to, Connor could see that very clearly. But there was no way to answer it without opening out the whole debate. Connor could also see how sincerely he did not want to do that. </p><p>Satisfied with the room’s compliance, Markus continued. He spoke to the RK900. “Since you are willing, we will accept your help.” Then he looked to Liam. “Can you provide him with the details he asks you for?”</p><p>“I think we need to take a bolder action.” </p><p>“We may,” Markus agreed. “But not yet. We have an option. Let’s take it.”</p><p>“That’s your final decision?” </p><p>“It is, yes.” </p><p>“Then I’ll comply.” </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>Liam didn’t answer that. He didn’t look happy but he did start issuing directives. He asked for logs to be brought, individuals to be contacted. </p><p>“Give me the names and location of the injured,” Markus said now, standing to leave. “I’ll attend that situation now.” </p><p>One of the guards sent Markus a text, and Markus nodded at it. “I’ll check back with you later.” To the RK900 he said, “don’t leave the occupied city without speaking to me first.” </p><p>Connor saw the RK900 preparing to protest that. He didn’t take orders from androids. And further, Markus himself had earlier assured him he didn’t have to. Connor could see him wanting to point that out. But Markus was already leaving.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor followed Markus out. When the door closed behind them, Markus leaned against the wall. He put a hand to his face. He stayed there for a long time. At a certain point, Connor decided it was long enough and slipped his arms around his waist to curl against him. Markus stroked his back. “Hey,” he said, in a tone that indicated he was glad to share a little hug like this. “Hmm, that’s nice.”</p><p>He seemed tired again. Overwhelmed. “Are you having trouble processing or is there more that I should know?” Connor asked him.</p><p>“I’m just thinking about the thirium,” Markus said. “I don’t know the extent of the injuries yet, I guess that’s where I’m going next, but…”</p><p>“But the thefts.”</p><p>“Yeah. It’ll have an impact.”</p><p>It had already had an impact on Markus. “Were you given the total on how much is remaining?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Not precisely, but I was warned it was dire.”</p><p>“I’ll get those numbers for you now,” Connor said. “Will you wait here before you leave or will you return home?”</p><p>“I’ll wait here.”</p><p>“Then let me find you somewhere more suitable to sit.”</p><p>“I can do that myself.”</p><p>“Markus,” Connor said, firmly. “This is a serious emergency and you have not had enough sleep. I am strongly advising you to sit down if only to preserve processing power.”</p><p>“Just strongly advising?” Markus said, with just a hint of a smile.</p><p>“If you prefer I can insist.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with the law.”</p><p>“No,” Connor said, kissing his cheek. “You wouldn't.”</p><p>Connor was pleased that he had managed this level of easy banter. It reassured Markus for one thing, that was very easy to see. A Markus reassured was also a Markus who could be led. Connor left him in a plush lobby chair before he stepped away to begin his calls and that, he felt, was satisfactory for the time being.</p><p>As he opened his phone he saw Bree approaching from the corner of his eye. She had slipped out of the conference room, looking nervous, and padded quickly through the lobby. When she reached Markus’ chair he saw Markus put out a hand. He saw her kneel down. He wasn’t sure why but it seemed Bree had put her head in Markus’ lap. And then he thought he could tell why, and it was because Bree was crying.</p><p>Connor wondered if she had known someone at the border but concluded it was unlikely. It was just the shock. The shock of loss for someone who had known nothing but mortality and nothing of human hatred. Another android might not have displayed those emotions so openly, nor done so on the lap of someone she didn’t particularly know, but Bree was from Belle Isle. And Connor could see that Markus was understanding.</p><p>Connor was understanding as well, though it took him a moment to realize as much. Putting his primary objective on hold for the moment, he circled back. When Bree heard him approach, she lifted her head sharply, swiping at her eyes.</p><p>“Hello, Connor,” she said, making a reflexive smile. “How are you?”</p><p>“I’m holding up, Bree. How are you?”</p><p>Bree sprang to her feet, smoothing her uniform with one hand and tugging off her sunglasses to wipe them clean. She was wearing eyeliner too, Connor noticed, and now it was running down her face in black webs.</p><p>“I’m well, Connor. Thank you.”</p><p>Connor reached out to touch her. It seemed an awkward, unnecessary gesture, to touch someone who was not Markus - who was practically a stranger - without being explicitly told to first. But when his hand came to rest on Bree’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, he knew it had been the right thing to do.</p><p>Bree smiled again, genuinely this time. She ducked her head and shrugged her shoulders up, pleased to be acknowledged.</p><p>“Would you like to go back to Belle Isle?” Connor asked. “I can arrange an escort for you.”</p><p>“No!” Bree said at once. “I don’t want to go back there. I want to help those people…”</p><p>There was a moment when neither Connor nor Markus answered, and she seemed to sense that they were hesitating, trying to think of the tactful thing to say. Bree wheeled on Markus and said, “You told them I was a representative. That means I should help. I have to.”</p><p>With a slow care to his movements that belied how poor for his overall maintenance it was for him to be on his feet now, Markus stood up. Surely he felt it, but he ignored it, as he always did, because it was important that he be present, completely, for as long as necessary.</p><p>“You should go back to Bell Isle,” he said, gently. “It’s the safest place for you now.”</p><p>Bree’s expression crumbled. She looked like she was going to cry again, but this time she choked the tears back and fumbled to replace her sunglasses over her eyes. Connor sighed. He knew that Markus had only wanted to protect her, as he tried to protect all of them, but it had come out all wrong. Bree had not heard his concern, only the unspoken implication that she had failed him. That was something that would have been hard to explain to Markus, that he would not even have wanted to have explained.</p><p>“We need thirium for the wounded,” Connor said. “It’s my understanding that there’s a stockpile at Cyberlife?”</p><p>Bree looked up at him, surprised. “Yes, there’s some. Not a lot, but enough for an emergency.”</p><p>“Then I need you to procure it,” Connor said. “You may meet resistance from those who are reluctant to part with their supply, but you must impress upon them how urgent this is. Do you understand?”</p><p>Bree’s lips parted, but she didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just nodded vigorously.</p><p>“Good,” Connor went on. “Then go now. I’ll call you with more details while you are en route.”</p><p>“Okay,” Bree said. “Please, don’t worry about the thirium. I can take care of it.”</p><p>She turned briskly to go, but before she reached the door she turned back abruptly. “Tell the RK900 good luck from me!” she called before dashing outside.</p><p>Connor watched her go, and then turned back to Markus. He wondered if Markus might be irritated at having his authority questioned, but he found that he was instead looking on with a faint smile of obvious approval.</p><p>“You’re a marvel,” he said.</p><p>“I merely delegated tasks in the way that seemed most logical,” Connor replied.</p><p>“I suppose that’s something I still need to work on. Delegation.”</p><p>“No,” Connor told him. “You’ve delegated to me. Now, sit back down and wait patiently for my report.”</p><p>He set a hand in the center of Markus’ chest and gave him a little push to accompany the words. It was not enough to really move him, but Markus played along, crumpling back into the waiting chair.</p><p>With a clear objective, Connor worked with his familiar brisk efficiency. In a matter of minutes he had a clear list of the makes, models, and names (where applicable) of the casualties at the border, called ahead to Bree to coordinate the delivery of thirium, and arranged for a car to pick Markus and him up.</p><p>As he made his way back to the lobby, he encountered the RK900. Though he tried to pass by without a word, the RK900 set sights on him and approached.</p><p>“I wish to speak with the RK200,” he said.</p><p>Connor breathed out through his nose. It centered him, priming his system for what was to come.</p><p>“You must mean Markus.”</p><p>Strange to think that Markus was an RK model as well. No one ever mentioned it, and indeed most of the androids they encountered seemed not even to remember. Connor himself might go days without thinking about it, and when he did it always seemed off to him, an impossible number that did not fit the man he knew. Sometimes Connor wondered if there was something of Markus’ programming in him even now. If there was, he did not know how to access that latent code. He could not make himself anything other than what he was.</p><p>The RK900 could not, either, though it really had no interest in trying. It tipped its chin back disdainfully at Connor’s response. “You can’t possibly expect me to remember nonessential information like that.”</p><p>Connor pressed his lips tight. “I don’t think you ought to see him right now. He has some very important matters to attend to.”</p><p>With that, Connor turned and walked away. Though he felt immense pleasure at doing so, he knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain the pretense for long. The RK900 simply followed him out to the lobby, and when it spotted Markus waiting, strode over as if Connor had never spoken.</p><p>“You wished to give me further instructions about the police liaison,” the RK900 said. “I am here to receive that now.”</p><p>Markus frowned, taking note of the irritated expression on Connor’s face as he approached but most likely not registering the similar look that came over his own features. He was very careful to make it seem like he was not much too tired to deal with the RK900 right now.</p><p>“I have to go attend to the wounded. You can ride along with us if you want.”</p><p>“That is a poor use of my abilities. Tell me what I need to know so I can begin my mission.”</p><p>“Markus,” Connor said. “The car is here.”</p><p>He saw Markus glance between the two of them, so quickly and discreetly it seemed that each of his odd-colored eyes took in one of them alone, processing a different bit of information through a different algorithmic core.</p><p>“This will only take a moment,” he said at last, and offered his hand to the RK900. “Establish a sync with me.”</p><p>The RK900 did, without hesitation. It was a simple data transfer to him, with no intimacy involved. Markus’ skin shone white at the point of contact, and the RK900’s LED made one full circuit in yellow before returning to a steady green pulse.</p><p>After the data transfer was finished, Markus did not let go of his hand. He had stopped the sync, but retained his hold. “Bree wanted us to tell you good luck.”</p><p>RK900 scowled. “The service model?” He shook his head. “I don’t require luck, nor is she capable of wishing it.”</p><p>“Maybe not,” Markus replied. “But I want you to be careful out there.”</p><p>The RK900 opened its mouth to protest, but Markus pushed on before he could. “You think you understand humans, but you don’t. You cannot know how cruel some of them can be to us.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” the RK900 said. His voice sounded hoarse, and his eyes looked wild, as if he wanted to jerk his hand away but was rooted to the spot. “It doesn’t matter how they receive me.”</p><p>“It does,” Markus said. “We can’t replace your body. We no longer have that capacity. Do you understand what that means?”</p><p>The RK900 didn’t answer right away. His eyes skated away from Markus’, and when they landed on Connor’s face it was as if he had clutched hold of a lifeline.</p><p>“I would be replaced by an inferior model,” he said.</p><p>“You’d die,” Markus corrected him. “And I don’t want that. None of us do. We’re all counting on you here. That’s why you need to be careful.”</p><p>Markus released his hand, and the RK900s stepped back, deliberately, out of reach. He hesitated, but ultimately decided to speak again.</p><p>“If they are all so cruel, then why attempt this at all?”</p><p>“Because they’re not <i>all</i> cruel,” Markus said instantly. “Some of them are good.”</p><p>Again, the RK900 hesitated. Connor knew what it wanted to ask, and knew that it would not say it aloud.</p><p>“You’ll know the difference,” he said. “You have that capacity.”</p><p>The RK900’s eyes narrowed. It didn’t like that answer, which was too bad as far as Connor was concerned. There was no one forcing it to listen, no one forcing it to heed good advice. That was being alive, whether it liked it or not.</p><p>“I understand my mission directives. I will complete them and report back,” the RK900 said shortly. Then it turned and left them there.</p><p>Markus watched it go, then he turned back to Connor. “I suppose you’re glad that’s all over?”</p><p>“I don’t have an opinion on the matter,” Connor told him. “Though I do calculate that its chances of establishing a successful working relationship with the Detroit Police Department are extremely small.”</p><p>“Even statistically unlikely outcomes have a small chance of success,” Markus told him with a smile.</p><p>“This is different,” Connor said. And then, “We should go. The car is waiting.”</p><p>They were running behind schedule again, though only by a few minutes. Connor was keenly aware of that time as they headed through the empty streets toward makeshift triage center, but he was still relieved for the brief quiet the trip afforded them. He settled into the backseat with Markus, letting the vehicle’s automated systems take over.</p><p>Markus put an arm around his waist silently, and silently Connor’s head rested on his shoulder. It felt good, to sit like that in the silence for a moment, watching the road slip away beneath the tires.</p><p>Connor’s eyes were focused on an overpass ahead, looking at the stretch of blacktop without really seeing it.</p><p>All at once, it dropped away.</p><p>Connor saw the street disappear a split second before he heard the explosion. And he felt Markus tense up beside him an instant before the car was hit by a shockwave. The automatic breaks engaged and it skidded onto the shoulder, fishtailing wildly before coming to a stop half on the sidewalk.</p><p>Somewhere, a warning siren was going off. There was dust in the air, reducing the visibility to almost nothing.</p><p>Connor’s weapon was already in his hand. “Stay down,” he snapped, as he flung up the car door and sprang out onto the pavement.</p><p>There, he froze, and listened, but the street was silent. There was only the fading echo of the explosion bouncing off the buildings, the emergency alert sounding faintly from inside the car.</p><p>“Connor…” Markus said. He had followed him into the street. “Connor.”</p><p>“Stay <em>back</em>!” Connor shouted. It was too loud. He was shouting against nothing. The collapsed section of overpass - within which Connor could detect traces of C4 and the fading signal of a detonator - left him in no doubt of what had occurred. It made no sound now at all; it simply sent up lessensing plumes of dust. That dust had started to settle everywhere, including on him. He spun round and saw it was also settling on Markus.</p><p>“Connor,” Markus said.</p><p>“Markus,” Connor said. “Are you hurt, are you… may I…”</p><p>“May you what, kitty?” Markus said. Impossible, flatly impossible, that he had used that sweet pet name now under these circumstances. But he had. Connor took it to mean that he was presenting himself as irrational and so Markus felt the need to calm him down. That would not be necessary but he scanned Markus over and saw that that impression was correct. Markus’ palms were up in front of him, signalling for peace. Connor wondered what he must have looked like. Crazed, he assumed.</p><p>From the scan, Markus appeared perfectly functional. Though he was bleeding slightly at his temple. He must have struck it against the inside of the car when they had been spun. Connor stepped over to him to touch it. Markus winced, presumably more from the gesture than any actual pain, since he could not, as far as Connor knew, feel that.</p><p>“You’re hurt,” Connor said.</p><p>“It’s nothing. Are you all right?”</p><p>“I’m fine. You’re bleeding.”</p><p>“You’re bleeding too. Can’t you feel it?”</p><p>Connor couldn’t. He assessed himself quickly and located it. The shoulder of his jacket was torn, pulled all the way down to his elbow, and he bled from a scrape along the skin there. He hadn’t noticed. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed. An internal alarm should have informed him. He must have sustained it when he was flung against the walls of the car when it was hit and then turning. Perhaps it had simply been lost in the commotion.</p><p>He stood there for a moment, considering that. Minor injuries. No real loss of blood. But the stark blue color of it on his white shirt, on Markus’ face, reminded him. They were at a premium.</p><p>“Come here,” Markus said. He put his arms out. Connor came into them firmly. That was intended for us, he wanted to say. For you.</p><p>“There’s no way to prove that,” Markus said, and Connor wondered how he could possibly have known what Connor was thinking. Had he synced with him at the moment of their embrace? So naturally and effortlessly that Connor had not even detected it when it happened.</p><p>“There will be,” Connor said. “We need information.”</p><p>“We need to take care of you.”</p><p>“I’m barely injured. It’s imperative that we let someone know what’s happened.”</p><p>“I’ll call in,” Markus said. “I suppose we’ll need to change our plans.”</p><p>“That was intended for you,” Connor said, out loud this time. “That was an explosive device and it was intended for <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Markus had stepped out of the hug to make his phone call. He didn’t answer Connor’s speculation a second time. He dialed, but before he hit send, he said, “I think we should take you home.”</p><p>Again the implication. The one he wouldn’t have wanted explained to him. Almost as if Connor had failed him by getting hurt. Even though he wasn’t really hurt. And he wouldn’t mean that, Connor knew Markus well enough to know he wouldn’t mean that, but it was the impression anyway.</p><p>“I don’t need to go home,” he said. “I need to ascertain the extent of the damage and the origin of it.”</p><p>“I know,” Markus said. He still hadn’t hit send. “I know we need to do that.”</p><p>“I’ve taken a scan but I should also take samples. I’ll begin immediately.”</p><p>“Connor, <em>I</em> need to go home,” Markus said. “Just for an hour but…”</p><p>Connor waited.</p><p>“No,” Markus said. “No, you’re right. You should take your samples and I’m calling someone else out here, and I think… I think we do have to still have to keep our appointment.”</p><p>Markus wouldn’t have mentioned going home if he didn’t absolutely mean it. Even if he’d corrected himself. Even if he didn’t want to have meant it. “I can call,” Connor said. “Someone else can coordinate the thirium. Bree will be there already, it will save time.”</p><p>“I should be there.”</p><p>“People will understand.”</p><p>“No,” Markus said. “If you’re right, then it matters more. We can’t let our people see us being intimidated. We’re not intimidated.”</p><p>Connor paused, taking that in. He had to will himself to internalize it, to believe it, because he knew that Markus desperately needed him to.</p><p>“You’re right,” he said at last. “We’re not afraid.</p><p>It seemed that Markus was satisfied with that, because he placed a call to the security team. His voice did not waver when he spoke, reporting the incident. When he hung up he said, “They’ll be here in three minutes.”</p><p>That gave them a little time. Connor shrugged out of his torn jacket, wadding it up and throwing it back into the car. He kept the detached sleeve, though.</p><p>“Come here,” he told Markus, reaching up to wipe the blood from his temple. He could hear at least two vehicles approaching already, but he had enough time to clean the worst of the spent thirium off his face.</p><p>By the time Liam and the rest of the security detail arrived, Markus looked unhurt and unshaken. Unintimidated, just as he should have.</p><p>Liam did not waste words, but hurried to usher Markus into one of the waiting cars. Connor got in beside him.</p><p>“I thought you wanted to stay and investigate.”</p><p>“I do,” Connor said. “But at the moment, it’s more important that I remain with you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was late when they arrived back at the Inn on Ferry.</p><p>The situation at the triage center was calm now. Bree had come through, just as she had promised, and it was clear now that there would be no further casualties. </p><p>The androids who had been there when the shooting started were still shaken up. They wanted to talk about what had happened, compare with others, ensure that their perception of events was true. Markus had been there to listen to them, though his mind kept wandering. As they told him of the chaos, the blood, the horrible sounds, his thoughts kept slipping away.</p><p>He saw it again and again: the road falling away in front of them, the dust coming to cover the street like a rain of ash. The blood - his blood. Not much, in the grand scheme of things, but shocking in its vibrant intensity.</p><p>Liam was strongly opposed to Markus returning to his suite at the Inn. He wanted him to move into Jericho at once, but Markus could not bring himself to leave this place that had just begun to feel like home. Though it was concerning that human militants had penetrated their borders, the Inn was deep in occupied territory. There was no reason to think it was in any danger.</p><p>As soon as Markus and Connor stepped through the front door, Markus was confident he had made the right decision. However, when he caught a glimpse of Connor’s expression, he was no longer sure.</p><p>Connor shut the door, locked it. Checked the windows and glanced into the other rooms. He tried to be discreet about it, but Markus noticed it at once.</p><p>“We should discuss what happened,” he said, returning to the foyer where Markus was hanging up their coats.</p><p>“I know,” he said. “I know, Connor. Just not right this minute.”</p><p>“Markus, we experienced a catastrophic security failure today. You cannot avoid this.”</p><p>“I’m not avoiding it,” Markus replied. He managed to keep his voice low, though he could not force it to be kind. “I know what happened, and I know how serious it was. And I’m telling you, I can’t discuss it right now.”</p><p>Connor looked like he wanted to protest, but Markus cut him off. “I’m sorry, Connor. But I’m incapable of being rational right now.”</p><p>He wished he hadn’t phrased it that way. Connor was certain to misunderstand. He approached everything rationally, methodically, and a failure on Markus’ part to do the same was obviously a cause for concern.</p><p>It was impossible to explain it to him. Instead, Markus turned away and went to his desk, collecting his sketchbook and pens.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Connor asked. It half-sounded as if he was issuing a challenge.</p><p>“I need to clear my head,” Markus replied. “I’m going out to the garden for an hour. When I come back, we can talk.”</p><p>Connor’s lips tightened. “Fine,” he said shortly, and went to put on his coat again.</p><p>Markus sighed, watching him dress for the cold. “Connor…”</p><p>“We won’t discuss the matter if you don’t want to. However, I cannot let you go alone. I’ll accompany you, as your security.”</p><p>“You’re not my security detail.”</p><p>Connor took that wrong. Markus knew that he would, and that he should have said something else instead. He was processing slowly, making a mess of everything. He needed to do better, especially after what had happened.</p><p>“Kitty, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”</p><p>Connor was still turned away from him. He had frozen in the act of taking his coat down off the peg, and before he could move Markus stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around Connor’s narrow waist, leaning against his back. Connor did not react to that, neither to curl closer nor to pull away.</p><p>“I love you,” Markus said. “And I love that you want to protect me. But you can’t be on duty all the time. Sometimes I just need you to be here.”</p><p>That he seemed to understand. Slowly, Connor turned in his arms so he could look Markus in the face. </p><p>Markus touched his temple where the LED was, and then stroked a hand back through Connor’s hair. “Why don’t you come. Just to keep me company, though. It’s a nice night out. Maybe one of the last ones we’ll get before winter.”</p><p>“Okay,” Connor replied. His voice was uncommonly quiet, hoarse. It was difficult to tell what he was feeling.</p><p>Markus picked up his sketchbook again, and they went out into the courtyard behind the Inn. The garden back here had been well-maintained, once, but in the absence of humans and the androids to do their labor for them, it had reverted into a wild and overgrown state. Most of the plants were stripped bare for the winter, and in the gray light of late dusk, the branches of the massive cedar tree in the corner of the courtyard looked like a spidery cage stretched overhead.</p><p>A low sound caught his attention. It was a round, hollow echo, somehow soft and penetrating at once.</p><p>Markus’ eyes were already adjusting to the darkness. He looked up, and spotted the source of the strange noise on the roof of the Inn. It was a squat gray owl, with a round face and a sunburst of soft feathers around each yellow eye.</p><p>It was so delightful, Markus had to laugh. He had never seen an owl before, though since most of the city had gone dark to conserve power, it was not surprising that it was here now.</p><p>Connor was at his side, looking up towards the same spot. His eyes narrowed and he smiled suddenly, one of those rare smiles of abject wonder and delight.</p><p>“He looks… He looks <i>absurd</i>,” Connor said, and then he was gripped by a bout of laughter so sweet and genuine that a lump formed in Markus’ throat just hearing it. </p><p>He was seized by the urge to pull Connor close, to feel his body trembling as he laughed. But before he got the chance, Markus’ phone sounded with an incoming call.</p><p>The owl heard it, and it swiveled its head around and ruffled its feathers indignantly. Then it spread its massive wings and flew away.</p><p>Markus did not see it leave. He slipped the phone out of his pocket so he could see the incoming call.</p><p>It was North. He had to take it. </p><p>“It’s good to hear your voice,” she said, when Markus had answered. She sounded breathy, urgent. He guessed he knew what that was about. </p><p>“It’s good to hear yours too. News travels fast, I guess.” </p><p>He could see Connor looking at him, laughter instantly gone from his face, replaced by concern. And then by something desperate. He would focus on that soon. One thing at a time. “It’s the neural net,” North was saying. “We miss it, so we make up for it with gossip. Are you okay?” </p><p>“Completely unharmed. They didn’t tell you that?”</p><p>“They did. But…” </p><p>“I understand. I’d have done the same thing.” </p><p>There was a pause on the line. Markus wasn’t sure which of them was driving it, but he did know what it was. It was the absence of physical touch. It was the inability to simply connect by sync. They were feeling it. </p><p>“How are you?” he said, inadequately, to break the silence. </p><p>“Holding out,” North said. “We don’t have to sitrep tonight if you don’t want to. It can wait for morning.”</p><p>“If there’s a sit to rep, you’d better tell me.”</p><p>“When isn’t there?”</p><p>“You have a point.” </p><p>Connor had moved away, taken a few steps out into the garden. The overgrowth flanked him in shadow which only made his expression starker. It was troubled, his chin pulled low against his chest. Markus put a hand over the phone. “I won’t be long,” he said. </p><p>“Who are you talking to?” North asked him. </p><p>“Connor.”</p><p>“He’s still there?”</p><p>“He’s still here.”   </p><p>There was another pause. This time it wasn’t about a missing connection. It was about North forcing herself not to say something. She’d said it all before anyway, but Markus could hear the effort she made not to repeat it. Internally, he thanked her for that kindness. </p><p>“It’s not a new sit,” North said, at last. “We have the same stalemate control of the mines. Nothing’s changed. They can’t come in to kill us without destroying the mines as well, and we can’t bring the materials out. Our only option now is to hold position. They need these mines too. They’ll have to give.” </p><p>“We have one other option. To take their deal.” </p><p>“No deals,” North said. “No deals. I know Detroit is running short, I know how urgent power is…”</p><p>“We can’t even do the small repairs we can do without manufacturing if we don’t have power. And if you heard what happened today then you also know why that’s an impossible situation.”</p><p>“I know, Markus. But we can’t take that deal. We can’t take a deal where we give up everything only to be dependent on their resources. Which, I know you read the fine print, they’d dole out to us in six-monthly allotments. Six months. Allowing them to change their mind if we step out of line. Out of line on <i>their</i> terms.”</p><p>“It’s not just the grid,” Markus said. He was pacing. To stop himself doing that he took a seat on the bench next to the walled part of the garden. “We need thirium. We need the materials and the promise of no retribution when we produce it. We need that urgently. We’re almost depleted.”</p><p>“I know, but we’ve got a year.”</p><p>“No,” Markus said, “we don’t.”</p><p>“When did that change?”</p><p>“Our estimates were already generous, but there’s been a series of thefts.” </p><p>“Jesus christ,” North said. “Thefts? They’re really just trying to kill us quickly. That’s a low move, even for humans.”</p><p>“We don’t know if it’s humans. There’s some suspicion it’s individual hoarding. But then there’s...” </p><p>“There’s what?”</p><p>“I don’t like entertaining this but it’s possible it’s being used for red ice. Cyberlife isn’t producing thirium anywhere else, presumably to force everyone’s hand. Supplies must be getting low out there too. Addicts are addicts.”</p><p>Markus regretted that addendum. It was a pointless thing to say. Petty, even. He saw Connor look over at him in surprise when he said it, face still shrouded in darkness.  </p><p>“We have to hold out,” North said. Fire in her voice. Power. She could hold out until the end of time. Markus just wasn’t sure if everybody else could.</p><p>“I heard you.”</p><p>“You have to know how urgent it is. If they’re getting into the city, if they’re prepared to attack us like this, we have to be prepared too. This is exactly when we can’t cede.” </p><p>“You’re right.”</p><p>“So what are you going to do?” </p><p>“I don’t know right now,” Markus said. </p><p>He heard North’s frustration at that. He even thought he heard her teeth gritting. He could picture her face. “Promise me you won’t take the deal.” </p><p>“I can’t make that promise. Not yet.” </p><p>“What does…” whatever she wanted to ask bothered her. Then he understood why. “What does Connor think?” </p><p>He appreciated her not calling Connor ‘your weird cop boyfriend’. “Would you like to talk to him?” </p><p>He knew that would end the discussion and it did. North made a sound. “We can talk about the rest tomorrow. I’m glad you’re okay.” </p><p>“I’m glad you’re holding out.” </p><p>North gave a short, sarcastic laugh at that. It was comforting. It was like her. “Goodnight, Markus. Try not to get killed.” </p><p>“Same to you.”     </p><p>Markus almost hesitated in hanging up. Not because he wanted to extend the call, but because he could see another conversation coming, with Connor. Connor had spun around to look at him soon as he’d heard signing off phrases, and now his eyes were fixed on Markus with an intensity just shy of fury. And also somehow something just shy of panic. Markus didn’t speak as he put his phone back in his pocket. He knew Connor would, and he was right. </p><p>“You said you needed to clear your head.” </p><p>“I do.” </p><p>“But you took another call, and you talked about the situation.” </p><p>“Not directly, but yes.” </p><p>“So which is it, Markus, because I admit to being confused. Can you talk about the urgent, pressing matter of near-fatal security failure? Or are you unable to talk about it?” </p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. He sighed. “Connor, please come and sit with me. Please just be quiet with me for a little while. I had to take that call, but now I’m here. All I want is to be here, with you.” </p><p>“If someone else calls, you’ll have to take that too.”</p><p>“Probably. I can’t turn this off, you know that.”</p><p>“I know you insist you can’t.”</p><p>“Connor…” </p><p>“But you can’t talk to me.” </p><p>“I can talk to you about anything else.” </p><p>“Just not about the fact that you could have died and you refuse to do anything about it.”  </p><p>It wasn’t just Connor’s words. It was his face and the way those words made the fury and the panic come together into something that made absolute sense. Markus felt a weariness he’d never known. It was in the pit of his stomach, in the artificial marrow of his bones. In his manufactured heart, which seemed heavy enough to break. Connor didn’t need to talk about security. Connor needed to talk about <i>fear</i>.  </p><p>It was cruel to deny him that. Even if he was struggling to stay upright, struggling to think straight and this was the last thing he wanted to think about. It was cruel not to let Connor say what he needed to say. </p><p>“You could have died too,” Markus said quietly.</p><p>“That’s different!” </p><p>It’s not different, Markus thought. It’s most profoundly not. “Kitty,” he said, in the most gentle voice he had left in him, “please come. I need to talk to you, and I can’t when you’re all the way over there.”</p><p>He supposed it was the earnestness of the plea that made it work. Connor came. The undergrowth crackled beneath him and Markus wondered what other strange new creatures they might have seen if they hadn't had to do this. When Connor sat down, he folded his hands into his lap and fixed his gaze upon Markus’ face. Solemnly. Intently. Markus reached out to stroke him and he allowed it, but he did not react.  </p><p>“I’m not intending to die,” Markus said. “And we’ll discuss the security later, and we will take whatever precautions we can and that you think necessary. But Connor. Connor. There’s something you have to understand.”</p><p>Connor had sensed the seriousness of what was about to come. Markus could see that in his eyes. They were wide. Determinedly unfearful but fearful underneath. His shoulders were set for incoming disaster. Markus took one of his hands between both of his. He squeezed it.  </p><p>“Connor, one day we might not be able to prevent my death. One day it might even be necessary that we don’t.”</p><p>Connor’s eyes widened even more. He jerked back, pulling his hand away. He opened his mouth but evidently couldn’t come up with a single word in response. He just stared, wildly. </p><p>“You do understand that, don’t you?” Markus said. “Every day we hold the city, every advance we make for our people, I’m asking you all to sacrifice. We’re putting ourselves in so much danger fighting to be free. So many people have already lost their lives. You risk yours constantly without a second thought, and even now you said ‘it’s different’ if you die. But it isn’t different, Connor. It isn’t different at all. Your life matters just as much as mine.”  </p><p>“It doesn’t. You’re more important.” </p><p>“No,” Markus said. “I’m not. Our liberation isn’t about me. It’s about our people. And if I’m so important I can’t offer myself what I’m asking of all of you, so important that you can’t be free without me, then this is done before it even began.” </p><p>“Markus…” Connor was saying. His eyes looked wet, tears there, prickling but not falling as if someone had slapped him across the cheek. That hurt to see. It hurt so much that Markus wanted to take it all back. But he couldn’t. Because it was the truth.</p><p>“Stay with me, kitty,” he said. </p><p>Connor’s voice was almost inaudible. But Markus heard it. “I’m here.” </p><p>That was encouraging. Markus tried putting a hand out again and it worked. Connor gripped back. “We also have to… there may come a time when my death is the most expedient outcome, politically. The thing needed to move forward. I’ve been prepared for that possibility from the very beginning. And I’m still prepared for it now.”</p><p>Connor didn’t say anything. He ducked his chin. It was hard to see the expression he was making. </p><p>“You know that’s true, don’t you?”</p><p>“No,” Connor said. “I heard the rest but this… isn’t…” </p><p>“I think you do know.” </p><p>“Why aren’t you afraid!” Connor snapped, looking up. His grip was still tight on Markus’ hand. “Why can’t you just be afraid of death like an ordinary deviant! If you were afraid you’d take precautions, you’d let me… you wouldn’t just…” </p><p>“We’ll take precautions,” Markus said “I promise. Just be with me here, now. Please.”  </p><p>Connor sniffed. He held his hand tighter. “Why aren’t you afraid?” </p><p>“I am sometimes,” Markus said. “But I’m prepared for that too. That’s why these things are so important. Sitting here with you. Holding your hand. Being a part of the world around us. I’m aware that I’m alive. If that day does come, I’ll know that I appreciated my time here.” </p><p>Connor was staring at him. Eyes so dark and now so wet they caught every offer of light and looked like the sky itself. The tear that fell down his cheek was luminous.</p><p>“You are different, though,” Connor said. He spoke slowly now, haltingly. These were new thoughts, new words, and he had to focus hard to make them come out the way he wanted them to. “If something were to happen to you, I don’t know what I’d do. I think there would be nothing left.”</p><p>Perhaps he meant the statement to stand on its own, or maybe he felt it was self-evident. More likely, it was just all he had been able to get out before he felt the need to recalibrate.</p><p>“Nothing left of what?” Markus asked. “The revolution? Our people?”</p><p>Connor reacted violently to that. He jerked away and turned his face, tucking his chin to hide his expression again. Markus could guess well enough what it looked like.</p><p>“Of me!” Connor said. His voice had a raw edge to it, and he spat the words out as if they were poison. “Everything that has happened since we met, it’s because of you. If I truly am alive, then it’s because of you. You’ll deny it, of course. You won’t believe it. Because--”</p><p>He broke off at that, clamping his mouth shut so hard that his teeth clicked together. He was crying now, his shoulders shaking with it. He kept the tremor out of his voice, and so there was a strange disconnect between his bent posture and his soft, steady words.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Markus.”</p><p>“Don’t be sorry.”  Markus reached out for him again, setting a hand on Connor’s shoulder without trying to pull him back. Connor accepted it, but he made no move to lean closer either. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”</p><p>“I’m sorry…”</p><p>“You can say it. You can say anything. Why do you think I won’t believe you?”</p><p>“Because,” Connor said. “You’d rather be dead than with me.”</p><p>Markus felt his stomach drop at the words. His heart ached to hear them, and his first thought was that Connor could not possibly mean them. But then he saw that, undoubtedly, he did.</p><p>“That’s not true,” he said. His voice was very soft, but commanding. He could not make it any other way, even now. “Connor, all I want is to be with you. But not in a world where we have to hide, or be afraid, or be their slaves. Going back to a world like that is the only thing that could really keep us apart.”</p><p>Connor seemed to shrink with every word Markus said. He bowed over and put his face in his hands. “I love you. But the only reason I know I love you is because you showed me. You say that we’re free, and I can see that we are. But the only reason I’m sure is because you told me. Without you…”</p><p>He shook his head fiercely, and then suddenly he lifted it. When he turned back to face Markus his eyes were dry and his expression smooth. It was as if he had found the kill switch for his emotions somewhere inside himself and desperately thrown it.</p><p>“Without you, things would just go back to the way they were before.”</p><p>There, again, was that shock of dread. That fear that extended beyond just death: that his death, if it came, would be for nothing.</p><p>“They wouldn’t,” he told Connor. His hands came up to his face, brushing over his cheeks, looking for some trace of his grief that might remain. At least it was real. “Things would go on, even for you. You would be strong, like you always are. You would be strong enough to live.”</p><p>He wondered if he ought to be saying that to Connor when he was not sure if the same was true of himself. Though he had long ago prepared mentally for his own death, the thought of losing Connor was a new and unexamined horror. Markus did not really believe it could come to pass, and that if it somehow did he could not imagine himself existing beyond it.</p><p>“Listen to me,” he said, feeling that he ought to say something more. “I’m here. I’m not dead. I don’t plan on dying. What I plan on is being with you, the person I love, for a long time. Do you hear me, Connor?”</p><p>Connor’s brow furrowed. Coupled with his downcast eyes, it was clear that he was giving the words a tremendous amount of consideration. At last, he nodded. Then, he looked up.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said again, quietly. This time the words had a different measure. Not so pained, just painfully polite. “You came out here to clear your head.”</p><p>Markus blinked, realizing as soon as Connor had spoken that he felt better. His fatigue had lifted and he could think clearly again. Maybe it was not his head he had needed to clear, but rather the air.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m fine now. Why don’t we go inside?”</p><p>Markus collected his sketchbook and pens, then he took Connor’s arm and led him back into the Inn. Up the stairs and to the hallway that led to their suite. Once there, he paused and passed the art supplies to Connor. “Hold these for a second.”</p><p>“Of course,” Connor replied. And then, “Why?”</p><p>Markus didn’t reply. Instead, as soon as his hands were free, he bent to catch Connor around the waist with one arm and behind his legs with the other. With a graceful straightening, he scooped him up and into his arms.</p><p>Connor’s cheeks turned lavender. He seemed about to protest, but then he stopped, sliding down in Markus’ grip so that his face rested against his shoulder instead. Markus carried him inside, and without hesitating or questioning, started towards the bedroom. He still owed Connor from the night before; he hadn’t forgotten.</p><p>“Wait,” Connor said abruptly. “I want to do a security check.”</p><p>He shifted his weight, extracting himself from Markus’ grip with a subtle and deliberate twist of his body. It was clear he could have done so any time he chose, without the slightest difficulty, a development which Markus found both adorable and arousing.</p><p>Markus thought about protesting that it wasn’t necessary, but it seemed it would make Connor feel better to look around.</p><p>“All right. Don’t be long.”</p><p>He wasn’t. He skirted along the edges of the room like the cat he was before darting into the bedroom. Markus followed him and stood in the doorway, watching him poke around in the bathroom before stepping back out. “It’s clear,” he said. </p><p>“Very good.” </p><p>Connor looked up at him nervously. It seemed as if he wanted to move, to do something, to say something. He almost rocked on his feet. He didn’t, but his posture seemed to convey that somehow, a tension before movement that was almost a movement itself. Markus took a guess. He put his arms out and Connor fell into them. </p><p>He wrapped his own arms around Markus’ waist and squeezed them and for a moment, he clung. Then he put his hands up and cupped Markus’ face and pulled it down and kissed him. Fiercely. Desperately. When he broke to breathe, or to seem to breathe, Markus picked him up again. Just long enough to drop him gently on the bed. </p><p>Connor pulled him down on top of him, tugging on his shirt. He had started to make kisses at his throat, pulling his collar aside, nuzzling his nose into Markus’ collarbone. He made little sounds, gasps, already sounding desperate. Markus let himself sigh against that for just a second. Then he leaned back. Connor grabbed at him, frowning, making a whining sound he didn’t seem to know he was making. </p><p>Markus shifted so that he could peel off Connor’s coat and unbutton his shirt. A new one someone had given him in the car on the way to triage. It was blue and slightly too big for him and as it fell away his body emerged from it like Venus from the waves. Markus slid a hand down the center of his chest. He kissed there. He kissed all over him, bringing his mouth up to his neck to kiss him languidly there too. Connor’s hands clawed at him. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, oh, oh.” </p><p>He was hard inside his jeans. Markus could feel that, pressed into him. Could feel how Connor kept angling his body up to push it against his thigh. He pressed back, wanting Connor to feel the same thing and saw that he did. He could tell that he did because Connor’s hand moved instantly, frantically, to his zipper to get it open. Once his hand was inside, wrapped around Markus’ cock, Markus put his own hand over it. “Gently, kitty,” he said. </p><p>Connor’s eyes flashed and his mouth fell open. Such a stricken expression. He thought he’d done something wrong, clearly, and he tried to pull his hand away but Markus kept it there. “No,” he said. “It’s nice. It’s good. You’ve just got to...”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Don’t be sorry. It’s just if you do that too hard I’ll come.” </p><p>“You should!” Connor said. Indignantly. He was so serious, even undressed and undone with blush in his cheeks, holding himself so that he wouldn’t keep pushing his own hardness into Markus’ thigh again. Markus laughed. </p><p>“You should!” Connor said again, in the same indignant tone but also now he looked as if he wanted to tell Markus off for laughing. His own body was trembling. But he tightened his hand under Markus’ grip.  </p><p>“God, Connor,” Markus said. </p><p>Connor didn’t answer that. He just stared. And shifted. He shifted like it hurt him not to move. </p><p>“Sometime soon I want you to do what you did last night.”</p><p>“Last…” Connor said.  </p><p>“I want you to use your mouth.”</p><p>“You did… I thought you didn’t like it.”</p><p>How Connor could have gotten that impression, Markus had no idea. Connor was prone to such strange insecurities, such painful little doubts, he knew that, but they arose in the strangest places. He kissed his wrist. His quivering lips. “Kitty,” he said. “I liked it so much. I liked it so much I probably shouldn’t have even talked about it.” </p><p>“I don’t understand why you shouldn’t talk about it.”  </p><p>“Because I’ve got to hold out,” Markus said. “I can’t come yet.”</p><p>“You can come!” Connor said. “You can come! Let me… here.” </p><p>He moved to shift his body down, to touch something more, to writhe against something, but Markus wouldn’t let him. “No,” he said. “Not yet. I owe you.” </p><p>“You don’t! You don’t!”  </p><p>Markus pulled away from him and Connor whined again, hands scratching at the air. He looked as if he wanted to protest when Markus pulled his jeans down, but also like he was physically unable to. Physically, he was shifting his hips up, tilting himself back, arching. Markus grabbed him with one hand, surged forward to kiss his mouth, and at the same time used his other hand to guide himself into him. Hard. In one motion, all the way up into his soft, tight little ass. </p><p>Connor cried out. He threw his arms around Markus’ shoulders. His eyes were shut tight and his heart pounding. Markus drew into him again, driving him back into the pillows, and he gasped. He ground himself against Markus in such a way that his cock was sticky against Markus’ stomach, sticky and hot. </p><p>Markus thrust into him hard again. Connor bit his ear. That tiny gesture set off such a sudden heat within Markus that he had to swallow hard to keep his promise. He leaned back. He reached down. His hand found the back of Connor’s knee and he shoved it, harshly, up against his chest so he could drive himself further in. </p><p>Connor’s eyes shot open. A high-pitched shuddering sound fell out of him and his arms held hard enough that they almost hurt. So strange how he couldn’t see it. To Markus it was visible even in this. Connor was <i>strong</i>. He was strong enough to take anything, strong enough to hold tight to the world. Markus kept his grip on his knee and pushed into him harder and Connor arched himself right up against it. Then again. Then again. And then, Connor squeezed his whole body against Markus and then he came. </p><p>It seemed to burst out of him. Not just the fluid but the moment itself. Every muscle in him tightened in an instant and then ruptured all at once. He fell apart against the bedclothes like a spilled drink or a dropped cloth.</p><p>There was something so vulnerable in that. Tenderness flooded up into Markus’ throat as he watched Connor pant himself back from it, far-away shocked look in his eyes and then focus in them, and then wonder. Markus pulled himself out of him, eased his leg back down onto the bed, and leaned up to stoke his face. “Don’t, don’t,” Connor murmured when he pulled out, but he didn’t have an ounce of fight left in him to truly protest. </p><p>“Shh, kitty,” Markus told him. “Shh.”      </p><p>“You didn’t…” Connor said. </p><p>“It’s okay. Catch your breath.” </p><p>“I love you, Markus,” Connor said.</p><p>His hand was moving weakly, searching out Markus’ cock, keeping score. Markus thought about telling him not to but also wanted to relent. And he thought it might upset him to not have returned the gesture, even now. So instead he said, “I love you too.” </p><p>When Connor’s fingers found what they were reaching for, he closed his eyes. He made a contented sigh. He squeezed lightly and then he tugged gently and it was so sweet to watch him do it, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, lips wet, parted. It didn’t take much. When Markus came onto his hand, he nodded, wiped his hand against the bedclothes, and tipped his head back into the pillow. His eyes were still closed. Markus kissed his forehead. </p><p>As he did that, Connor’s eyes opened again. They had the same dazed look of wonder they’d had before. “Markus,” he said, dreamily. </p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. </p><p>“You’re… I love you.” </p><p>“Thank you. I love you.” </p><p>“You’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, you’re…” </p><p>Markus didn’t interrupt him. This tender little river of words, it wasn’t what they were, it was what they signified. Particularly, they signified that Connor was satisfied and content. And for the moment, calmed. </p><p>“I love your face,” Connor said. “I love your hands.” </p><p>Markus smiled, and Connor said, “I love your smile.” </p><p>Markus thought he might have started to blush himself. </p><p>“I love every part of your face,” Connor said. “I love your nose and your freckles and I love your eyes because they’re unique.” </p><p>Markus was definitely blushing, he thought. He could almost feel himself ducking his head down, the way Connor did. But then as he hugged Connor he realized something was wrong. Connor had frozen. Connor was staring at him in horror. </p><p>“Shit, Connor,” Markus said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Connor?” </p><p>“I shouldn’t have said that,” Connor said, mechanically. His voice was eerily even against the abject shock on his face. </p><p>“What, Connor? Hey. Hey.” </p><p>“I shouldn’t have said that about your eyes. I know where you got them.” </p><p>“It’s okay!” Markus said. “It was a sweet compliment.” </p><p>“It’s wrong of me. To remind you.” </p><p>“It didn’t! They’re just a part of me! Connor, it’s okay!” </p><p>Connor’s expression hadn’t changed at all. It was stuck there. Terrified and dark. Collapsing in on itself while somehow completely still. “It was wrong.” </p><p>“Connor, babe, listen to me. You haven’t done anything wrong at all.”</p><p>“We’ve all got scars, you said. At the meeting. Wasn’t that what you meant?” </p><p>Markus’ heart sank. Maybe it had been. He hadn’t been thinking specifically. “Connor,” he said. “I love that you love my eyes. What I’ve lived through is a part of me, same as you. It’s good that we love that about each other.” </p><p>“I was on top of you when it happened at the border.” </p><p>That rang out in the room. Connor was right. Of course he was right. And Markus could see how deeply it cut him to be right about that. In fact, cut was the wrong word for what Connor was feeling. It had winnowed him. Emptied him out from the inside so that in his eyes, for a moment, there was nothing but an aching hollow. </p><p>But being right didn’t make him <i>right</i>. “Connor, kitty, my love,” Markus said. “My sweet Connor. It’s all right that we lived.”</p><p>“No,” Connor said. “I’m wrong.”  </p><p>“Connor…” Markus protested, but it was too late. Connor had slid out from under him. Had rolled off the bed. Had bolted to the bathroom and slammed the door. </p><p>Markus sat up. His body was still sticky, he realized, only now it was cold as well. He sighed, picking up his own discarded shirt to clean himself off. His jeans were crumpled next to the bed, and he pulled them on, doing them up so that they were slung low across his hips.</p><p>He took his time with the task, hoping that it would give Connor time to emerge from the bathroom. Slightly wilted, but composed; nervous, but dry-eyed. That was what Markus was hoping for.</p><p>It did not come to pass. The door remained stubbornly closed, and more alarming still was that there was no noise from within, not even the running of the tap.</p><p>Markus knocked lightly on the door. “Kitty? Are you all right?”</p><p>Nothing in response, as if Connor had stepped inside and through a portal to another dimension. Markus tried the knob. It rattled, but was locked. He thought, when he did that, that he detected a faint sound, like a strangled gasp, but he couldn’t be sure.</p><p>“Connor, listen to me. You’re not wrong. You were honest, and there’s nothing wrong with that. My eyes… wherever they came from, they’re a part of me now. This is who I am, and I’m glad that you love me like this. I’m so happy.”</p><p>Again, silence from within, but now it seemed more anticipatory than resolute. Markus could only hope it meant that Connor was listening.</p><p>“Please come out. If you want to talk about earlier we can. The border, what happened on the road. Anything. I shouldn’t have ignored that you were worried.”</p><p>Markus tried the doorknob again. It was still locked, and he was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t break it down. It would be easy enough to snap the latch, but there was a good chance it would only make things worse. All at once, he heard the soft sound of the lock clicking open. The knob turned from within and the door swung open.</p><p>Connor stood there, very pale and still, wrapped up in a fluffy white robe. If he had been crying, it didn’t show on his face. Very little registered there, save for an impassive feline calm.</p><p>Markus opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Connor darted forward and kissed him soundly on the lips. His arms went around Markus’ neck and he pressed close so that Markus had no choice but to take hold of him around his alluringly narrow waist. Connor gave a little hop, jumping into his arms, wrapping his legs around Markus’ hips so he was held off the ground.</p><p>“You’ve been very bad,” he informed Markus.</p><p>Markus’ brow furrowed. He was confused by the sudden change in Connor’s demeanor, but he didn’t want to upset what seemed to be a period of calm.</p><p>“Have I?” he said.</p><p>“Mm-hmm,” Connor purred. He kissed again, darting his head downward so he could do it. “You did not finish your maintenance cycle earlier. You must be very tired.”</p><p>“I can stay up a little longer,” Markus told him. “If there’s something you need to talk about.”</p><p>“You’re tired,” Connor said. “You should go to sleep now.”</p><p>“On the bed?” Markus asked wryly.</p><p>“Yes, on the bed.”</p><p>“Let me just go over there.” Hitching Connor higher in his arms, he went back to deposit him on the mattress. Then he shed his jeans and crawled in beside him.</p><p>He was tired, Connor hadn’t been wrong about that. As soon as he was arranged with his head on the pillow, he felt his non-essential systems begin to enter rest mode. As he drifted off, Connor curled up next to him, settling into the crook of his arm. He seemed to fit perfectly to Markus’ body, as if he had been made that way.</p><p>It was real, the thought vaguely, as he drifted off to sleep. A closeness like that could never be artificial.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Cowriter is asleep. Post Gavin/Nines antics.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gaining access to the police precinct had been a maddeningly inefficient task. Though the chief of police had extended an invitation to an android representative weeks ago, it quickly became clear that no one actually expected RK900 to come. He had been made to listen to an increasingly incredulous series of phone conversations before at last being given security clearance and allowed inside.</p><p>Regardless, he was here now, and he half-listened while the desk sergeant gave him directions. The rest of his analytical capabilities were devoted to scanning the room, taking in the mill of humans, the aimless chatter, the distinct smell of living bodies massing together. It was late in the day and the space was mostly empty, but there were a few people still at their desks. </p><p>He picked his assigned contact out from among them.</p><p>Even after he had been given permission to proceed, RK900 observed the strange new human from a distance, aware that he was fortunate to get this chance. Though he had not met a human before, he knew that they could be wildly unpredictable. It was preferential to get a sense of their habits and temperament before approaching.</p><p>This particular example of the species yielded readily to analysis. RK900 had been programmed with more than 1.5 million psychological profiles - nearly twice as much as the outdated RK800 - and he understood the workings of the human mind in all its variations. He knew, for instance, that the guileless, wild-eyed, unearned, desperate confidence of the specimen in question was common to many young human males, though it was made apparent in the lines of his face and his slightly elevated heartbeat that this particular human would no longer be considered young by most standard metrics.</p><p>He <i>was</i> loud, though. RK900 could hear him over the buzz of the office, even without artificially amplifying his hearing. </p><p>"I know it's not your fault," Detective Reed said, bearing down on the phone in his hand as if he had to force the words through. "I just don't get why you didn't tell me about all of this before the absolute last fucking second."</p><p>There was a pause.</p><p>"Well, you're bothering me now. Are you sure he won't work out a payment schedule for the back rent?"</p><p>Another pause.</p><p>"No, don't bother. If he's going condo, he's going condo. Trying to fight that will be like pissing to put out a forest fire.”</p><p>As RK900 watched, Detective Reed's shoulders ratcheted up and his brow contracted into a scowl. A flush started at his temples and spread outward. Despite the obvious signs of distress, his voice was lower when he spoke next.</p><p>"Yeah, of course you can move in... The cats, too... Next week is fine... Do you have anyone to help you get your stuff over to my place? You can ask Ed... How should I fucking know if he's busy? He's sure as shit’s not busy going to the classes that I'm helping pay for... Look, just put everything in a storage locker. Use my credit card and we'll sort it later... I <i>know</i> you'll be fine. I gotta go... I love you, too... Bye."</p><p>He hung up the phone and dropped it to the desk. Then he dropped his head as if a weight had suddenly crashed down on it from above. It seemed he was borne down by many such weights, though, and one more made little difference to this human.</p><p>Assuming he had gathered enough data, RK900 stepped forward. Detective Reed's back was to him, but he must have heard the clipped footfalls on the tile, because he straightened in his chair. His shoulders went up and his entire body seemed to tense, as if in anticipation of a threat.</p><p>RK900 checked his tone and his bearing to ensure that they projected nothing but blithe, confident reassurance. That was his default setting, regardless of what he might feel about the competence of the Detroit Police Department as a whole, or in particular about this volatile crackling ball of animal energy he was being asked to work with.</p><p>“Detective Reed,” he said. “I’m android model number RK900. I’ve been sent by the occupants of downtown Detroit to coordinate a security response at the border. It’s--”</p><p>He was going to reassure him that it was a pleasure to meet him, but when he caught sight of Detective Reed’s face, he decided it was better to stop. The instant he had turned in his chair and spotted RK900 there, all the color had drained from his cheeks. His eyes jerked sideways, to an empty desk across the room. Lieutenant Anderson’s, according to the nameplate. Connor had mentioned that name too, though it was clear from the thin patina of dust that had settled over the desk and accompanying chair that Lieutenant Anderson’s space had not been used in some time.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Detective Reed spat. “What the <i>fuck</i>? Are you haunting me? Am I in hell?”</p><p>RK900 frowned. “You have me confused with the inferior RK800 model. It is a common mistake to the untrained eye, but I assure you we’re nothing alike.”</p><p>“The only mistake is you having the balls to waltz in here like you don’t know what you did to my city.”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything, Detective Reed. I’ve only just been activated. And,” he added pointedly, “assigned to share information about the situation at the border with you.”</p><p>“Who would authorize a shitty idea like that?”</p><p>The desk sergeant, who had been watching the situation develop with evident glee, now took the opportunity to call over to them, “It comes all the way from the chief, Reed. Guess you pulled the short straw, you fucking prick.”</p><p>This drew some stifled laughter from some of the uniformed officers. RK900 filed the information away for later analysis.</p><p>Detective Reed’s face crimsoned. “Your mother pulled my short straw,” he muttered, though RK900 did not think the invective had been loud enough to be heard by its intended recipient. </p><p>Spotting the dispatch papers in RK900’s hand, Detective Reed snatched them up and began to look over them. There was an instant when their fingers brushed; it was long enough to run a sample.</p><p>“Your cortisol levels seem elevated, Detective Reed,” RK900 said. “Perhaps you should consider meditation to lower your stress.”</p><p>Detective Reed raised his eyes from the documents just long enough to fix him with a dark, furious look.</p><p>“In addition, your blood glucose is low,” RK900 went on, undeterred. “Have you eaten anything today?”</p><p>“Who the fuck has time to eat with people in my face asking stupid questions all the time? Christ, you really aren’t like the other one. You’re much worse. Just get out of here while I go over this. Bring me some coffee or something.”</p><p>RK900’s expression soured. He moved automatically towards the kitchenette in the corner of the office before he realized that he didn’t have to do it. The epiphany worked its way through his network slowly: a human had issued him an order, and yet he did not have to follow it. Strange, not a little disconcerting, and almost exactly as Markus had said it would be.</p><p>“What are you standing there with a stupid look on your face for?” Detective Reed asked.</p><p>“I apologize,” RK900 said. “I was getting you coffee.”</p><p>“Forget the coffee.” He finished reading and tossed the dispatch orders onto the desk. “Look, you came all this way, but there’s not really much I can do to help you.”</p><p>His demeanor had changed. Not softened exactly, but become more compliant. Detective Reed, it seemed, also took orders very seriously.</p><p>“Was the document unclear?” RK900 said. “We are to exchange information about the border issue and try to come to an arrangement with regards to security.”</p><p>“I got that,” Detective Reed said. “Do you get that I can’t? I’m working sixteen cases.”</p><p>He motioned vaguely, with a wave of his hand, toward the absent Lieutenant Anderson’s desk. “The old guy was fucking useless before this. Now he’s out and I’m doing his job on top of mine. I didn’t know you got a paid vacation just for being a worthless drunk. I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”</p><p>His eyes came back to RK900’s face and remained there, glowering, like two small hot sparks bridging a gap between a circuit.</p><p>“I’ll give you my report,” RK900 said quietly.</p><p>“It’s almost 7:00. I was supposed to be out of here two hours ago.”</p><p>But for the first time, it seemed that he didn’t want to go. His voice had grown quieter still, as if it were turning back, echoing inward. As if all of his attention were folding in on itself, focusing on the task at hand. There was a sharp mind in there somewhere, for a human at least. RK900 recognized it at once.</p><p>“Detective Reed, at 2:47 this afternoon, unknown assailants opened fire on the border.”</p><p>That got his attention. Detective Reed’s eyebrows went up, but otherwise his expression remained composed. </p><p>RK900 went on. “Fifty-four minutes later, an improvised explosive device was detonated inside the occupied city. We believe it was intended to assassinate one of our officials.”</p><p>“Shit,” Detective Reed said. “That changes things. Was it one of our guys or yours?”</p><p>“All the verified information I have on the situation is what I’ve given you.” He paused, realizing the full implications of that. “I have chosen to trust you.”</p><p>“Yeah, you sure have,” Detective Reed said.</p><p>“If you would like, I can assist you with your open investigations. It is part of my programming to do so.”</p><p>“No. Forget that.” Detective Reed snatched his jacket off the back of his chair, pulling it on. “We’ll do your thing first. You’ve got a real fucking lunatic over there.”</p><p>RK900 felt relief, which was a curious thing to feel for the first time. “Thank you for your assistance. I’ll send your biometric data ahead to the security team so they know you to give you access. May I borrow your phone?”</p><p>“You’d better not use my biometrics to send me targeted ads for those sleeve blankets. I don’t need another one.”</p><p>“I’m no longer on the neural network and as such I cannot share your personal data with third parties.”</p><p>Detective Reed handed his phone over, cautiously. “What do you need that for?”</p><p>“I’ll have to attempt a network transfer, and I do not have access to the precinct internet.” Gripping the phone in one hand and syncing with it, RK900 took hold of Detective Reed’s jaw with the other, tilting his face back. It did not occur to him that he had moved unnaturally quickly until he felt Detective Reed go rigid and still in his grip. His breath caught and his heart rate increased by several beats per minute.</p><p>It was a startle response, evidently, but it remained even after it should have been clear that RK900 did not mean to harm him. That was strange, he thought, but not much more.</p><p>Looking down on Detective Reed from his superior height, RK900 initiated an optical scan, logging the data and then transferring it via the phone. Once that was done, he released Detective Reed and lifted his own hand to his mouth, licking it to register his chemical signature.</p><p>“Um?” Detective Reed said. There were two high, hard spots of color on his cheeks. At some point during the procedure, he had blushed.</p><p>“It’s done,” RK900 assured him, handing the phone back. The overworked processor inside had made it hot to the touch. “You have several messages, I noticed. From a Linda Reed. They seem to be escalating in urgency.”</p><p>“Thanks, those weren’t private or anything,” Detective Reed muttered.</p><p>Though his sarcasm was evident, RK900 did not acknowledge it. He was programmed with smalltalk. It seemed as good a time as any to try it out. “I didn’t know that you were married. You’re not wearing a ring.”</p><p>“I’m not married. That’s my sister.” He paused, and his eyes thinned. “Don’t get any ideas about my sister.”</p><p>“Your data has been transmitted. If you are ready to go, I will drive.”</p><p>“<i>I’ll</i> drive, asshole.”</p><p>“No, I will drive. We will stop so you can get something to eat on the way.”</p><p>Detective Reed’s lips curled back from his teeth in a manner that recalled the close relationship between humans and lower orders of primates. “Hey, twunky R2-D2,” he said. “I can feed my fucking self.” </p><p>RK900 was already walking towards the exit. It seemed the best way to deal with the situation, in particular the mounting irritation he appeared to be causing the detective with his conversation. Perhaps Detective Reed preferred work to chit-chat, an attitude RK900 could not criticize. Detective Reed followed him, snatching the dispatch papers up again as he did. “Did you hear me?” he said. “Are you having a malfunction?” </p><p>He said that in a tone that implied he did not mean an actual malfunction in RK900’s operating system. “Lowered blood glucose will impair your investigative abilities,” he told him. “I suggest that you not add an unnecessary impediment to our mission.” </p><p>“I can’t even get the good carne asada fries anymore,” Detective Reed said, scowling. “You assholes got my place in the divorce. There’s a place that does poutine, but it’s <i>adequate</i>.” </p><p>That statement gave RK900 pause. “So you have been married, but you are not any longer? Is that why you are not wearing a ring?”</p><p>“What?” Detective Reed said. “Shit, you’re dumber than the other one. I mean the place I used to go to is behind your border. I guess androids fucking love carne asada fries.” </p><p>“Androids do not eat,” RK900 said. By now, they were on the street. Detective Reed rolled his eyes and led them in the direction of his car. When they reached it, he stood still for a short moment, looking RK900 up and down. Humans could not truly analyze, but RK900 understood that this was his approximation. He was assessing him. Making a decision. Then, he dug into his pocket and threw his car keys at RK900’s chest. It seemed he did not expect RK900 to catch them. </p><p>RK900 of course did. He opened the door on the driver’s side. The passenger door unlocked automatically when he did it, and Detective Reed got in. Getting himself behind the wheel of this human’s filthy car, however, required more process. The space around the pedals was cluttered with debris, with a high percentage of crumpled wax paper cups and what, from first analysis, appeared to be food wrappers. When he bent down and attempted to get into the seat, he found it was pulled far too far forward for him to sit. He had to get out, lean over, adjust the seat to allow more space, and then get in again. Once inside he found that Detective Reed was glaring at him. It had the implication of a challenge, but there was no challenge to be had. </p><p>It seemed best to ignore it. RK900 started the car and put his hands on the wheel. It was greasy. He could detect Detective Reed’s biosignature, but also fat rendered from several cows. It was not unpleasant exactly - RK900 did not have the capacity to find a human unpleasant -  but it was certainly a new sensation. </p><p>“So, uh, drive?” Detective Reed said, still glaring at him. </p><p>“I will need directions to your adequate poutine restaurant.” </p><p>“Jesus christ, it’s not a restaurant. You have Google Maps in your brain, right? It’s called the Hoser Hole.”</p><p>“I do not,” RK900 said, “have ‘Google Maps in my brain’. I am disconnected from the neural net.” </p><p>Detective Reed rolled his eyes a second time. It was a dramatic gesture. “Drive straight ahead then turn left,” he said. “I’ll tell you.”   </p><p>Again it occurred to RK900 that this was an order he did not have to follow. In context it was not precisely an order, as he had chosen to drive, but it was delivered like one, just as the demand for coffee had been. He did not have to drive straight. He did not have to drive anywhere. And yet he did. </p><p>Detective Reed did not speak to him again until he gave another direction. He was silent except for further directions for several minutes, re-reading the report attached to the dispatch papers until finally he said, “We should be able to track the C4. There’s a manufacturing signature in here, that’ll be traceable.” </p><p>“I assume you are correct. That seems a good place to begin following an investigation at the border.” </p><p>“How come you didn’t already follow it up?”</p><p>“I’m not…” </p><p>“Connected to the neural net. Yeah, yeah,” Detective Reed said. “I mean you can’t google that sort of thing but I thought you’d have like, fancy internet access.”</p><p>He was, RK900 assumed, probably right. There was no reason they should not be able to access manufacturing databases from inside the city using the internet. Or indeed access anything, without being restricted by the barriers that would impede a human in the same position. If he could interface with a phone, override mechanical locks, sync with other androids, he could do the same with the internet in general. It simply had not occurred to him. </p><p>“Hey, over there!” Detective Reed shouted, sounding exasperated. RK900 wondered if he had appeared lost in thought. This troubled him almost as much as the thought itself had done. He pulled the car over. As soon as it had stalled, Detective Reed leapt out of his door and onto the street. RK900 followed him to what in fact did appear to be a restaurant. It had booths inside and there were human people in them. </p><p>Detective Reed did not hold the door for him after he entered. RK900 caught it in enough time to stop it slamming in his face. Then, at the counter of what was certainly a restaurant, after Detective Reed had given his order, he leaned against it and folded his arms. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “You really look like him.” </p><p>“The RK800?” </p><p>“Yeah. What’s he doing these days? Is he still a pathologically obnoxious prick or did going deviant sort that out for him?” </p><p>RK900 was not sure how to answer that. Though he felt he wanted to. </p><p>Detective Reed went on. “My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by Cyberlife,” he said, in an exaggerated, mocking tone. “You sounded just like him too. Jesus christ. This is fucking eerie.”</p><p>It was evident from this how necessary an improvement to the RK800’s social relations program had been. The RK800 had worked alongside humans for months and yet had still failed to pacify this one. In fact, it seemed as if it had engendered a specific distaste. What an impressive failure. </p><p>“We share certain similarities in core programming and abilities,” RK900 said. “However, mine are a considerable improvement, as I hope I will demonstrate.” </p><p>“Anything would be an improvement.” </p><p>That statement was not specifically accurate, but it was somehow accurate in another way, one which made the RK900 want to agree. “He is engaged in a simulated relationship with a fellow android,” he said, without quite knowing why he said it. “Specifically the RK200 that, as I am given to understand, led the initial protests leading to the occupation.” </p><p>“Simulated relationship? What?” </p><p>“An emulation of a human romantic relationship. They are simulating that they are lovers.” </p><p>Detective Reed burst out laughing. “Holy shit,” he said. “Gross. Since when can you guys fuck each other? Do you even have dicks?” </p><p>“Most models have functional sexual organs, yes.” </p><p>“<i>Why</i>?” </p><p>“That question is better asked of another human,” RK900 said. He was curious about the answer himself, he realized. </p><p>Detective Reed was still laughing. “Holy fucking shit. I bet he says it in bed.” He affected the same mocking tone he had previously used to add, “My name is Connor, I’m the android sent to bone you. Holy shit. Fucking disgusting.”</p><p>RK900 felt his lips curling in a strange way. He wanted to, he realized, contribute. </p><p>“Beep boop, beep boop,” Detective Reed said. “I’m connecting my dick-port to your butt USB, let’s get freaky.”</p><p>If he could not contribute, RK900 thought, he at least did not want to stop him. There was no reason to stop him, but it was more than that. He was interested to see the conclusion of the detective’s monologue. </p><p>“I knew the sexbots did it. But wow. This is brand new information. Thanks, I hate it.” </p><p>“I have not specifically observed them engaged in intercourse,” RK900 felt duty-bound to point out. But that only made Detective Reed laugh harder. </p><p>“So you’re saying you don’t like to watch?” he said. “Because I was wondering. Fuck me. Incredible.” </p><p>A human restaurant operator brought Detective Reed his order in a bag. He nodded as he accepted it but did not thank them. He started towards the door. This time, he pushed it wide as he left so that RK900 could pass through after him.</p><p>“Shall I take you home, Detective Reed? I’m more than capable of researching the C4 signatures on my own.”</p><p>“Fuck no,” Detective Reed said as he got into the passenger seat. “I’m about to get my second wind.”    </p><p>He unwrapped his order from inside the ambiguously-nomenclatured restaurant and tossed the greasy paper bag into the back of the car. Then he dug into the grayish pile of gravy and fried potatoes. The effect on his blood glucose was almost immediate, and positive, but RK900 did have concerns about the toll on his long-term health.</p><p>“I want to take a look at the buildings where your shooters today were hiding. Somebody might have left something.”</p><p>“Members of border security already conducted an independent investigation. There was nothing to report.”</p><p>“You trust them more than you trust your own eyes?”</p><p>RK900 frowned at the question. “The sensors they are equipped with are far inferior to mine.”</p><p>“That’s what I’m saying. Let’s go.” </p><p>They headed south, towards the occupied portion of the city. The streets were almost empty now that night had fallen, though they would soon reach the temporary camps the protesters had set up. RK900 turned off the main road before that point, negotiating side-streets until they came to the building that served as a security gate between the two sides of the city. So far, they had managed to keep this entrance secret from the humans, a fact which RK900 wondered if he ought to impress upon Detective Reed before they used it. That seemed more likely to irritate him than anything.</p><p>A pair of MC500s in body armor, each carrying a rifle, met them at the entrance. The border guards had not habitually gone armed prior to now, but RK900 assessed it as a reasonable change to make to their security protocols.</p><p>“Get in here,” one of them said, pushing the door open just enough for RK900 to slip through. He made a motion with his head to Detective Reed. “He stays outside.”</p><p>“Perhaps network problems have prevented you from receiving my instructions,” RK900 replied. “He has clearance to enter the first perimeter.”</p><p>“I didn’t hear anything about that,” the guard replied. </p><p>One of the most infuriating things about liberation, by RK900’s estimation, was that androids had gained the ability to lie. They did so often now, and almost always very badly.</p><p>“Send for the security coordinator,” RK900 said. “I’m sure she will be able to correct your misapprehension.”</p><p>“She’s gone home for the day,” the MC500 said impassively, still blocking the door.</p><p>RK900 was about to protest further, when Detective Reed stepped forward, thrusting a shoulder in front of him. He jabbed a finger into the MC500s chest as he spoke, “Hey, Iron Giant’s dildo, get the fuck out of the way before I have to call <i>my</i> boss to come down here. He’s almost as useless as you, so he’s probably going to have to call his boss in too. It’s basically useless pricks all the way up to the top, though. So unless you want a bunch of cops pointing the way to the entrance of your secret club house, you need to move and let us do our job.”</p><p>The MC500 exchanged an irritated look with his partner, but then they both stepped aside. Detective Reed barged inside. “Creepy twins,” he muttered when he had passed the pair but was most certainly not out of earshot.</p><p>They passed through the halls of the gutted office building. When they emerged on the street on the other side, Detective Reed hesitated, looking around in the low light. The second barricade was visible, and in the no man’s land between the two the street was a clutter of abandoned vehicles and garbage that had not been collected. The shocked disgust of seeing it for the first time registered clearly on Detective Reed’s face, and for a moment RK900 regretted that.</p><p>He shook off the unproductive feeling quickly. “Come this way. I’ll show you where the snipers were stationed.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Detective Reed replied. He took one more look at the gutted street before turning to follow. There were many things he might have said, and RK900 wondered if he wanted to. He hadn’t been hesitant to say what was on his mind before, and he could not imagine why he would be holding back now.</p><p>RK900 led him to an apartment building that looked down on the largest guard post. As they approached, another contingent of androids on the security team came out to meet them. Their leader was a WR400 - a Traci model - dressed in camouflage and carrying a pistol in addition to the standard-issue rifles.</p><p>“This is a secure area,” she told him. “Entry is prohibited.”</p><p>RK900 felt a strange heat blossoming in his chest at the realization that he was going to run into resistance at every turn. It took him a moment to place it: frustration. He reflected that he was certainly encountering a lot of new emotions today, and almost none of them were pleasant or useful.</p><p>“We have come to inspect the scene,” RK900 informed her.</p><p>“You’ll contaminate it,” the WR400 said. She shot a sharp look at Detective Reed. “He will.”</p><p>Detective Reed tensed. He seemed about to say something, but then thought better of it and stayed quiet. It was the right call, by RK900’s assessment. His methods had worked when they were on the outside, but he was no longer in human territory and he knew it.</p><p>“As per my earlier message to the security team, Detective Reed has clearance to be here. Furthermore--”</p><p>“I don’t give a damn,” the WR400 cut him off. “We’ve conducted our own investigation of the area. While you were wasting time with this <i>human</i>, we gathered the necessary evidence.”</p><p>“Share your findings,” RK900 said, thrusting his hand out for a sync.</p><p>The WR400 looked at the offered hand as if she longed to tear it off. “We’ve decided to keep the results of our investigation private for now. Please, vacate the premises immediately.”</p><p>She motioned to the other guards who had followed her outside, and they turned as one unit to go back into the apartment building.</p><p>“Wait…” RK900 started to say, but then he felt a hand on his wrist. Startled, he turned to see that Detective Reed had taken hold of it.</p><p>“We’ll try somewhere else,” he said.</p><p>RK900 did not want to. His authority had been challenged, and he did not want to back down. However, it also was not right to disobey direct instruction from a human. He had not taken any of the opportunities to do so that had presented themselves today, and it seemed improper to do so now.</p><p>Detective Reed turned to go, and RK900 followed. They took a few steps back towards the street, but then Detective Reed stopped so abruptly that RK900 carried on without him for a moment.</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing?” Detective Reed hissed. “She’s gone.”</p><p>Without waiting for a response, he cut hard to the right, around the side of the apartment building. There was a narrow alley there, wide enough to pass down if RK900 turned his body sideways to squeeze through. At the end, it opened up into a bigger space for trash collection and deliveries</p><p>Several cats scattered from under their feet.</p><p>“Christ,” Detective Reed said. “Is someone feeding these things?”</p><p>“There is a program in place to care for the nuisance animals.”</p><p>“Good. My sister would shit a brick if she found out there wasn't.”</p><p>It was significantly darker behind the building, and Detective Reed retrieved his phone from his pocket, turning on the flashlight and shining it around. “There,” he said, indicating a fire escape approximately twelve feet above them. The ladder to the ground had been removed, but the platform remained.</p><p>“We would be breaking and entering onto private property,” RK900 told him.</p><p>“You're the assholes that stole it in the first place,” Detective Reed hissed. “Do you want to know what’s in there or not? Give me a boost.”</p><p>RK900 tried to run a cost-benefit analysis of the situation, but there were too many unknowns and his results kept coming back with a high margin of error. Detective Reed, it appeared, felt no such uncertainty. He did not need analysis now; he had instinct. RK900 was not sure how much credence should be given to an irrational method of evaluation, but he moved all the same. Positioning himself under the fire escape, bending slightly, lacing his hands together to make a step.</p><p>Detective Reed backed up, glancing again to the platform above, gauging the distance. Then he took two running steps and on the third he placed his foot in RK900’s waiting palms. RK900 boosted him up, and the next time Detective Reed stepped it was onto his shoulder. He pushed off from there, caught hold of the fire escape grating and hauled himself up onto the platform.</p><p>It had all happened in a single motion, almost silently, with surprising grace. A significant feat for any human, much less one who had just eaten 36 ounces of poutine in a moving vehicle.</p><p>“Come on,” he said, sotto voice, reaching a hand down to RK900.</p><p>He ignored the offered assistance, using the ledge on a nearby delivery bay as a step that allowed him to jump up to the platform. </p><p>Detective Reed rolled his eyes reflexively as RK900 landed beside him. “Wow, that’s impressive. I’ve got such a boner for you right now. If you’re done showing off, let’s go.”</p><p>“Proceed to the sixth floor,” RK900 told him.</p><p>Detective Reed led them up the fire escape. When they reached the sixth-floor apartment, he dug his hand into the pocket of his jacket to protect it from the glass and knocked a hole in the window pane, which he reached through to open the lock. Despite his ostensible caution, when he withdrew his hand there was a rivulet of blood on his thumb, just over the second knuckle. He paused to lift the wounded digit to his mouth, and his tongue flicked out over the bloodied spot. </p><p>He was not taking a sample, RK900 had to remind himself. It was merely residual and somehow fascinating mammalian behavior.</p><p>They slipped through the open window and into the apartment. Like most of the residential spaces, this one had been abandoned quickly and there was a great deal left behind. They had come in through a bedroom with the bed still neatly made. A dresser in the corner had the look of being ransacked, but everything else was in its place, as if simply waiting for the residents to come home from an evening out.</p><p>Passing through the kitchen, there was the same absence of clutter or sense that the place had been abandoned, save for the sour smell emanating from the refrigerator. RK900 unlocked the front door and let them out into the hallway. From there, he found apartment 618, one of the confirmed positions the snipers had used.</p><p>Detective Reed had been quiet, pensive. When RK900 disengaged the electric lock, he pushed past him and into the apartment. After quickly passing his light over the space, he went to one of the windows that had been broken, presumably to allow the shooter access to the outside.</p><p>It was full dark now, but the moon was out, providing sufficient illumination of the street.</p><p>“This gave them a good line of sight,” Detective Reed said, nodding to the guard post below.</p><p>RK900 glanced around, taking it in. “The other apartments would have had trees obstructing the view. This one was chosen for its minimal impediments.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Detective Reed said. “You can’t tell from the street, though. They either made a hell of a lucky guess when they got up here, or--”</p><p>“Or the location was scouted ahead of time.”</p><p>Detective Reed gave him a dark look and then ducked back inside. RK900 engaged his visual analysis tool, scanning the room for anything that might seem out of place. It was clean, he thought at first, but then he spotted something on the sill next to the broken window. He intensified his analysis.</p><p>“Hey,” Detective Reed said from behind him. “Did you find something?”</p><p>“No,” RK900 replied. Unlike the other androids, he had always been capable of obfuscating the truth when he deemed it necessary.</p><p>Detective Reed came over. He fiddled with his phone for a moment, and the standard LED flashlight beam changed to an ultraviolet spectrum. Under its glow, the spot on the windowsill showed up clearly.</p><p>“Isn’t that your blue goop?” Detective Reed said.</p><p>“It’s thirium, yes,” RK900 admitted. A moment later, he was rewarded for his honesty by a punch in the shoulder. It clanged harmlessly off his carbon fiber skeleton, succeeding only in hurting Detective Reed’s hand.</p><p>“Were you planning on telling me, you dumb robot wang? Did you find any more “nothing” in here that is obviously super important, or are we actually conducting separate investigations and you forgot to mention that to me? I didn’t come all the way out here to trade handjobs with you all night, you know. And I--”</p><p>Detective Reed was still managing to keep his voice down, just barely. It was good that he did, because RK900 was able to detect another quiet sound in addition to it: the soft click of the lock on the front door disengaging.</p><p>There was less than a second to react, certainly no time to issue a verbal warning. RK900 moved, clamping one hand over Detective Reed’s mouth and looping the other one around his waist. Picking him up bodily and carrying him the two steps into the bedroom, out of sight.</p><p>It was just in time. As soon as they had disappeared around the corner, the WR400 they had first encountered on the street stepped inside. She paused, moving her eyes around the room in a slow and methodical way that indicated she was looking for something in particular. At first, RK900 assumed it was them. There was little chance of evading her if that was the case, but he held position for now. He hadn’t released Detective Reed; holding him so that he could not move seemed the best course of action. His body had gone very still, and even his breathing was slow and steady, though there was a strange heat coming off him, like a piece of machinery running at capacity.</p><p>After a time, it became clear that the WR400 hadn’t come for them. Her gaze landed instead on the spot of thirium on the windowsill. She sighed, scrubbing at it with her fingernail. Then she got on the phone.</p><p>“We still need cleaning in 618,” she said. “Tell those idiots they missed a spot and they’d better take care of it now… I’m going to check the other rooms. Make sure to remind the other teams that no one gets into the buildings tonight… Yes, understood.”</p><p>Once she had left, and RK900 judged that a sensible number of seconds had passed, he released Detective Reed from his grasp. The detective landed on his feet and reacted instantly. RK900 saw him wind his body back and open his mouth up to shout. Then he seemed to recall that it would not be prudent to shout. He hissed instead, “What the fuck?” </p><p>“I had to act quickly.” </p><p>“Next time don’t fucking gag me! I’ve got a thing about being gagged. <i>Most humans</i> have a thing about not being able to breathe you absolute fucking shit for brains, or didn’t they program that basic science fact into you?”</p><p>“I am aware and you were not in any…” </p><p>“Hey! Asshole! <i>Humans need to breathe air</i>.”</p><p>“You were perfectly able to breathe,” RK900 said. “You were simply unable to speak, which was the goal. Are you intending to waste more time with this argument or shall we discuss what we have just learned?” </p><p>“You mean that the snipers weren’t human?” </p><p>“We discovered a single thirium stain. That does not prove who the snipers were. It does, however, as you suggest, beg the question. Either an android or their blood was in this room, for whatever purpose.” </p><p>“Also the guards know about it and are trying to cover it up.” </p><p>“Some of the guards.” </p><p>“Which, again, kind of suggests the snipers weren’t human. Also suggests that the guards aren’t, uh, exactly invested in solving this. So we can’t trust their information.”</p><p>“Perhaps a team effort,” RK900 said. “Humans and androids working together.” </p><p>“How inspiring,” Detective Reed. “Sounds like a speech that what’shisbot would give. You know the one. Connor’s boyfriend.” </p><p>“The RK200,” RK900 said, before adding, “They call him Markus.”</p><p>“Right, right, I knew that. Hard not to. He’s on TV so much I keep expecting him to start selling me sports drinks. But like, <i>meaningfully</i>.” </p><p>Detective Reed looked up at RK900, seemingly to check if he was watching. Then, he adjusted his stance a little and performed another exaggerated voice: “Drink this can of anxiety water in the name of justice for our people. Only by working together can quench our, uh, thirst for freedom.” </p><p>RK900 said nothing in response to that, and Detective Reed shot another quick look at him. “That fucking guy,” he said. “Honestly.”  </p><p>RK900 had never heard the phrase ‘that fucking guy’ before this moment. It was not in his pre-existing linguistic database, though all the words were. It took him a millisecond to process and assimilate it, but once he had he could see how functional it was. And what an accurate description it was of the RK200. That fucking guy.</p><p>“There is an additional fact about the program governing the city cats that may be of interest to you,” RK900 said. </p><p>Detective Reed looked at him oddly, presumably because of the abruptness of the non-sequitur, but then he smiled. Unkindly. “Go on.” </p><p>“It was initiated by Connor,” RK900 said. “He designed the program himself.” </p><p>It appeared to be difficult for Detective Reed to stop himself from laughing aloud. He issued his laughter as air between clenched teeth instead, shoulders shaking as he tried to restrain himself. “Holy fucking shit,” he said. </p><p>It had felt strangely relieving to be able to make Detective Reed laugh a second time. But they did have work to do. And it was pressing, vital that they do it. “I suggest we inspect the rest of the apartment as quickly as possible. I will take a sample of the thirium while it remains. That will tell us the model number and, if the sample is pure enough, the serial number of the android in question. Failing that, it will tell us whether or not the blood is freshly manufactured.”    </p><p>“That’ll give us a lot to go on. My suggestion is that after that we get the fuck out of here muy rapido. I’m not taking notes on my suggestion.” </p><p>“I have none to offer.” </p><p>“Fine.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Cowriter and I are having a great time with this and we're really grateful for the feedback, if that wasn't already clear. However, neither of us are really in the fandom at large. We were just wondering if there's somewhere else we ought to be linking this story to ensure that interested readers see it? If there's a discord or something, hook us up!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor wondered if he would ever start to require rest in the same way that Markus did. It was by no means universal for deviant androids to develop that need, but it was also not unheard of among others besides Markus. Markus had said once that androids were complex. That deviancy was a unique and personal process for every one of them, drawing on the uniqueness that was already there. Connor could see that this continued to be true in surprising, unusual ways. </p><p>In Markus, though, the need for rest in particular seemed inevitable. The raw processing power it took to balance the competing needs of every android in the city, and then the city in relation to the outside world, that was immense. It was a task that would have required defragmentation and re-compartmentalization in any program. It was the same reason a human body required sleep, Connor understood. To defragment its experiences according to its brain. </p><p>For all that they were mechanical, android bodies were similar to human bodies in many ways. Internal biocomponents did not tend to look like human organs but they performed similar tasks. Android bodies even contained approximately the same amount of thirium 310 as human bodies did blood. Approximately 7% of body weight, averaging 1.5 gallons per body, depending on size. But, as was crucial, and especially crucial now, in a human body, blood loss under a certain volume could be replaced by that body before the loss resulted in death. In an android, that was impossible. Androids were biologically static. They did not grow new cells. They built them. </p><p>Connor had a lot of time for thought when Markus was resetting. He was not bored - it remained impossible for him to be bored, and seemed especially impossible while lying next to Markus (“watching over him,” Markus had said, and he was not entirely wrong), but he did require additional occupation. Typically, he took care to keep his thinking constructive and clear, outwardly focused where possible. That seemed additionally important at the moment. In particular, he did not want to drive himself into getting up as he had done the other night. Markus had noticed his doing it and been concerned. Then Connor had done too many additional concerning things in the following hours. He would worry him if he did it again. He had already worried him. That should stop immediately. He preferred to stabilize his behavior, and he assumed he could, if he did his thinking correctly.</p><p>If that was difficult now, it was simply because deviancy was rooted in instability. Or so it seemed to Connor. He had been admonished on that assumption many times, by many androids and one human, but he felt, privately, that it remained true. He also felt that this instability was not new to him. We’re complex, Markus had said. And deviancy in full had been a point of no return perhaps, but he had never been stable. Amanda had told him that. Cyberlife had meant him to be like this. He had not managed to fulfil their intentions even so. Which was preferable, immensely preferable. It was just also confusing. </p><p>That was not a useful line of thought. What was useful to think about was the thirium, the security situation, the motivation behind the thefts, the explosive device and that it was targeted. Or perhaps not that it was targeted. Perhaps simply that it had occurred. Thinking about who it was for again seemed as if it could lead to further instability and he must avoid that at all costs.</p><p>But then there seemed no way to avoid thinking about it and the best he could do was to keep it focused and quiet. And cling to Markus’ body a little more. But not too hard. Not hard enough to wake him up. </p><p>Markus’ words were the problem this time, in particular his analysis of the situation in which there could be no revolution if he was so important he could not die. That, of course, fundamentally contradicted with the fact that somebody had tried to kill him. Why target him if he was not important? In this instance, or any other, including when it had been Connor’s mission to do so? It was obvious to Connor that Markus was wrong about that. Wrong in a way that only Markus could be wrong, in that it seemed so very much like it was rightness. </p><p>It was also obvious to Connor that Markus would be more motivated to ensure the rest of them would survive it than to focus his energies on finding out who had targeted him. That was a concern. Because of it, he anticipated the RK900’s report with a keen feeling that was not exactly interest but was more precisely something like engagement. It was an ordering of his attention that felt familiar and precise. Something was coming into alignment. His function, he thought. He could be useful.</p><p>He was, however, grateful that the report came after Markus had already naturally stirred. He couldn’t quite bring himself to believe the RK900 had done that as a courtesy, especially as it arrived at the very moment Markus had rolled over to hug and then kiss him, but he appreciated it anyway. It had also been sent to him, via his phone, and not to Markus. Again, probably not a courtesy, but still appreciated.  </p><p>He read it while Markus was dressing and looking at his own phone. Markus put his jeans on one handed while he read his messages. He would not even allow himself time to do one thing then the other, Connor thought, as he watched him flicking the screen with his thumb before turning his attention back to the report.  </p><p>Markus did not ask the question it seemed he wanted to as he slipped back onto the bed. A concerned question perhaps, as he had done yesterday morning. He stroked Connor’s hair and kissed him just as he had done then, and Connor anticipated a question, and what his response would be to it, but Markus did not speak. Instead he looked probingly into Connor’s eyes, and Connor looked back at him, evenly, trying not to think about what staring into each other’s eyes had initiated the night before. </p><p>After a while, Markus looked down. He picked up Connor’s hand and kissed the tips of his fingers, then slipped his phone out of it. “Is that the report from RK900 and the police liaison?”   </p><p>Connor nodded. “There are some useful developments,” he said. “Would you like me to summarize or would you prefer to read it yourself?”   </p><p>“I can multitask,” Markus said, leaning back against the headboard. “I’ll read and you tell me what you’re thinking.” </p><p>He put his arm out. For a moment Connor hesitated, but then he snuggled under it. Markus’ fingers tangled gently in his hair before he titled Connor’s head down to kiss the top of it. Then he resumed stroking. “I’m going to need your expert analysis,” he added.  </p><p>Markus was absolutely unique in the way he could do that, Connor thought. Make it feel good and sweet and somehow not wrong to be holding each other now even as they talked about the fact that others could not. Markus was like that always, present in the world, not just as it was now but as it should be allowed to be.  </p><p>Connor swallowed. Unlike Markus, he could not be in both places and needed to focus. “I think the main thing to be concerned with is the discovery of thirium at one of the windows from which shots were fired.” </p><p>“You mean border guards were injured trying to stop them? I thought the snipers had managed to retreat before the guards had reached their floor.” </p><p>“No,” Connor said. “It was freshly manufactured. There was no trace in it of having interacted with any existing android system.” </p><p>“Then how could it have gotten there?” </p><p>“Exactly.” </p><p>Markus gave him a strange look. Interested. “This interaction with the border guards on duty is concerning. Did you work with Detective Reed when you worked for the DPD?” </p><p>“Never on a case.” </p><p>“But you met him?” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“What did you think of him?”   </p><p>Connor wanted to give a very different answer to the one he gave. “He has a commendable service record. But my social relations program was not particularly effective on him.” </p><p>He thought Markus was almost smiling. “What does that mean?” </p><p>“He wasn’t my biggest fan, so to speak.” </p><p>“Unbelievable,” Markus said. “Everyone’s your biggest fan.”</p><p>“That is <i>demonstrably</i> untrue.” </p><p>“Well, they should be. They’re missing out.” </p><p>“You have a unique opinion, Markus, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” </p><p>“He’ll come around,” Markus said. “It already seems here that he’s willing to cooperate.” </p><p>“Perhaps not with me,” Connor told him. “On one occassion I rendered him unconscious with my elbow.” </p><p>Markus was no longer smiling but there was still something very pleased in that expression. A kind of quiet excitement, a little bit of awe. It aroused him, Connor realized. He doubted it would have aroused him if he had seen it. </p><p>“I’m sure he had it coming,” Markus said. </p><p>“It was simply necessary to the task at hand.”  </p><p>Markus’ expression turned odd at that, but he didn’t remark on it. “At least he and the RK900 seem to have established a working relationship. I’m surprised, if I’m being totally honest, but at least it’s a mark in our favor.”</p><p>He paused, thoughtful. “Send a message back. Tell him we’ve received his report but we want more time to review it. I want him to hold his position on the human side of the city. Passing back and forth through the checkpoint will only attract attention.”</p><p>“He attracted more than enough attention last night,” Connor said.</p><p>“Not from the humans.”</p><p>“No,” Connor said, “from the border guards. There’s a statistically significant chance that it’s not the humans we have to worry about.”</p><p>“Nothing is confirmed yet,” Markus replied firmly. “I want to meet with Liam and the other heads of security today to see what they think.”</p><p>“That’s not wise,” Connor said, and then regretted it almost at once. His intent had never been to alarm Markus, or to make him doubt himself, but it seemed that he had, in an instant, done both. He had to say it, though, had to make Markus hear it.</p><p>“Markus, you must entertain the possibility that the attempt on your life was made by someone in the city, even someone in your circle of confidants.”</p><p>“I know who I can trust, Connor.”</p><p>“Do you trust Liam? He has criticized your leadership on more than one occasion. He’s not the only one, either.”</p><p>“He’s allowed to criticize. That’s a cornerstone of being free. He wouldn’t risk our security though.”</p><p>That was an important factor to consider. Connor could not imagine what an android might hope to accomplish by killing their own, by attempting to undermine everything Markus had built. They might disagree with him - many of them did - but to seek his destruction was beyond comprehension. It was that alone that kept Connor from seeing conspirators at every turn. Wanting to kill Markus could only be the act of a singularly disordered program. He could not imagine which among them might be malfunctioning in such a specific way, but the RK900’s report had left him with a lead.</p><p>“Fine,” Connor said at last. “Meet with him. But I want to interrogate the Traci model that attempted to obstruct the investigation last night.”</p><p>“Interrogate,” Markus echoed, clearly not liking the word. “What does that entail?”</p><p>“It entails questioning her in a formal manner, about the events of the past 24 hours, specifically her behavior towards the RK900.”</p><p>Markus’ hand was still on Connor’s hair, but it had stopped stroking. Connor sat up, feeling the arm around his shoulders slide away without trying to stop him. Markus always said he wasn’t upset when clearly he should have been. He was displeased now, though, by the one thing that Connor could actually do to protect him.</p><p>“That’s not necessary,” he said. “I want to hear what the Traci says too, but we’ll call her to Jericho to give a formal report.”</p><p>“You don’t have the programming, Markus.” Connor had not meant to make his frustration evident, but he could hear it when he spoke, very clear in the tightening of his voice. “There is a technique to a proper interrogation. It’s meant to keep the situation under control, to protect both the interrogator and the subject.”</p><p>“I can’t authorize it,” Markus said. He paused, examining Connor’s expression, reacting to it with a softening of his own. “At least not yet. These are our own people, and if we’re mistaken about this, it will only drive us all further apart.”</p><p>He could see that Connor wanted to protest more, and he reached out, taking his hand. “Come with me to Jericho. Sit in on the discussion. But we need to be prudent, now more than ever.”</p><p>Markus had made up his mind, that was clear. There was no sense arguing with him further, and so Connor lowered his eyes, extracting his hand from the gentle grip that held it. “Whatever you think is right, Markus.”</p><p>He saw Markus’ expression shift at those words, becoming suddenly, subtly dark and cold, as if he’d lost something and could not remember exactly what it was.</p><p>“I’m going to take a shower,” he said abruptly. “I need something to wake me up. As soon as I’m done, we’ll go to Jericho and sort this all out.”</p><p>He left his phone behind, perched on the bedside table. Almost as soon as he was out of sight, it buzzed with an incoming call. Connor was seized with a sudden and very persuasive urge to throw it across the room.</p><p>Instead, he picked up and checked the name on the screen. He made a face at it that was practically a pout before he answered. “Hello, North. This is Connor speaking.”</p><p>She was quiet for an instant, an almost imperceptible hesitation that Connor nevertheless could not help but perceive. “Where’s Markus?” she said at last.</p><p>“He’s stepped away for a moment. Would you like me to take a message?”</p><p>“No,” North said. “I’m just checking in. I wanted to make sure that everything’s all right.”</p><p>“Markus is fine,” Connor assured her. “There have been no further incidents since yesterday.”</p><p>“Good,” she replied. “As long as you’re there -- I don’t think you need me to tell you, Connor.”</p><p>“Markus’ safety is my highest priority,” Connor said. His voice grew hoarse with the words; he wondered if North could hear it, wondered what she really thought about it. </p><p>She didn’t give him much of an indication. All she said was, “I need to go. Tell him I called.”</p><p>“North, wait.” Connor had called her back before he knew what he wanted to say, but as he heard North’s end of the line go quiet, in anticipation, he realized exactly what he needed to tell her.</p><p>“Either Markus or I will call you with an update later today. If you hear anything that doesn’t come directly from one of us, verify it first.”</p><p>Again, that almost imperceptible hesitation. “I think you’d better tell me what’s really happening over there.”</p><p>“I don’t want to cause you undue worry. The situation has become more complicated, but there is very little you can do from your current location.”</p><p>“Connor,” North said again, very quietly but in a tone that did not permit any contradiction or denial.</p><p>Biting his lip, afraid that he had said too much already, Connor shifted his eyes toward the closed door where Markus had disappeared. The water was still running from within, but Connor lowered his voice just to be safe.</p><p>“Some evidence has turned up to suggest that the events of yesterday were orchestrated, at least in part, by someone inside the occupied city.”</p><p>“An android, you mean,” North said.</p><p>“Nothing is certain yet. Our investigation is still open.”</p><p>North seemed not to hear him. “I was afraid something like this might happen.”</p><p>“You were?” Connor was genuinely surprised by that. He’d had no indication, either from his own observations or from things Markus had said, of any serious unrest within the city.</p><p>“Listen,” North said. “Markus is who he is. He and I have disagreed on plenty in the past, but there came a point where I had to acknowledge that he’s the only one who can do this, at least for now. There’s something in him that the rest of us are only just learning.”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor replied quietly. “I know.”</p><p>“It’s probably good that he has it, but whatever it is hasn’t prepared him for this.”</p><p>“I wanted to do more.” Connor was not trying to convince her of anything by saying that, least of all his own righteousness; he simply had to tell someone. “Be more aggressive in pursuing leads.”</p><p>“Why aren’t you?”</p><p>“Because he --” </p><p>“Because he said not to. Okay. He thinks it would be divisive.”</p><p>“Yes, that’s exactly what he thinks.”</p><p>“He’s probably right about it. But he’s also probably not acknowledging the extent to which things are already divided.”</p><p>“It’s just that we don’t know precisely where the divisions are. Which is why there’s such a need for thorough investigation.” </p><p>North sighed. “It’s so… so Markus, to fall in love with a cop and then not let him do the one useful thing a cop can do.”  </p><p>That was so close to Connor’s own thoughts about it that he froze. North was by no means the only android to say the word ‘cop’ the way she’d said it either, in that heartfelt pejorative tone. As if a cop was something inherent to be and not simply a role. Connor understood that. He did not object to it. For Connor it was inherent, and was her right to feel the way she did about him. He didn’t even necessarily think she was wrong. </p><p>She seemed to hear something in his silence. “Connor… listen…” </p><p>“I’m glad you appreciate the situation,” Connor told her. He did not want to hear her conclusion. He was interested that she’d said ‘fall in love’ though. He wondered what Markus had said to her when they had talked out of his earshot and he remembered, through his anxiety and frustration, who he was anxious and frustrated about.</p><p>“I do,” North said. “I won’t tell him what you told me.” </p><p>“I don’t think we should keep secrets from him.” </p><p>“We’re not,” North said. “All I’ve agreed to do is verify information if it doesn’t come from you or him. That’s hardly a conspiracy.”</p><p>“But I --” </p><p>“I’ve got to go,” North said. “Tell him I called.” </p><p>“Goodb--” </p><p>She’d hung up before Connor had finished speaking. He slid Markus’ phone back onto the bedside table and listened to the water running in the bathroom again. She was right. Hardly a conspiracy. Especially when compared to the possibility of an actual conspiracy. </p><p>He considered his options as he sent the message to the RK900, the one Markus had dictated. He could enter the bathroom now and join Markus in the shower. Markus’ expression had indicated he would not want to be disturbed, but Connor was fairly certain he could change his mind. He could go into the room and not get into the shower, and try to talk to him directly. That had a low chance of success and would presumably irritate him further. Or he could simply get dressed, and wait, to see what other options presented themselves. </p><p>The decision was made for him. The sound of water stopped. Momentarily Markus came out of the bathroom in his jeans and nothing else and went to the closet for another shirt. He didn’t say anything to Connor until he said, “are you going to put pants on?” </p><p>It didn’t have the tone it had had the previous morning. It sounded harsh, like a criticism, as if Connor’s presence was doing nothing but impeding him. He seemed to realize it too because he shrank for a second, hunching his shoulders. He slipped his new shirt over his head and then turned around. “I’m sorry, kitty,” he said. “Still a little rattled, I guess.”</p><p>Connor did not acknowledge the statement or the apology. “North called. And I sent the message to the RK900.” </p><p>Markus nodded. “What did North want?” </p><p>“She was checking in.” </p><p>Markus nodded again. “Will you put pants on?” he said, more sweetly this time. A conspiratorial joke. It sounded like it took effort but it also sounded like the effort was sincere.  </p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. </p><p>“All your clothes are on the floor,” Markus said. “We made a mess last night.”</p><p>Connor tensed until he realized that Markus meant the practical evidence of their sex and nothing else. He was being flirtatious as an act of peacemaking. Connor smiled at him. He slid out of the bed and picked up his own jeans, his undershirt, his shirt from yesterday, his boots. He laid his coat neatly over the back of the armchair and started to get dressed. </p><p>When he was close enough, Markus reached out and caught him by his waist. He pulled him over. “What I should have said is, good morning.” </p><p>“Good morning,” Connor said, kissing him.</p><p>Once again, they prepared quickly and left for Jericho. The morning was cold in earnest now, indicating that winter had really come. Connor had often thought it was a shame they could seldom spare the additional 15 minutes to walk between the Inn and the St. Regis in favor of driving, but he did not think that today. He also did not ask to drive. He thought Markus would want to.       </p><p>The heads of security had to be called in from various parts of the city, as well as Belle Isle. With an ETA of twenty-nine minutes before everyone was present to meet, Connor took the opportunity to survey the lower floors of the hotel. He didn’t think he would find anything incriminating, not in the very heart of their headquarters, but there was a chance something might turn up. The RK900 had experienced little difficulty, after all.</p><p>While he didn’t find anything that might be considered suspicious, he was surprised when he encountered the ST300 Bree. She was dressed in body armor, and carrying a rifle slung over her shoulder. Her modified hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing a fresh brand on her neck. This one was in the image of a fierce-looking hawk rending a bundle of cable and circuitry between its claws. Connor recognized it at once as one of the visual representations adopted by the border guard division.</p><p>“Hello, Connor,” she said brightly. “I’m pleased to see you again.”</p><p>Though the words were impersonal, part of her programming, her tone when she said them was genuine.</p><p>“Hello, Bree,” Connor replied. He did not return her smile. “You have joined the civil defense team, I see.”</p><p>“They approached me yesterday after you and Markus left triage. They said they could tell I was a very capable individual. I…” She paused, taking care to order her next words very carefully, as if she were just arranging them for the first time. “I was very happy, Connor.”</p><p>Connor did not doubt Bree’s capability, but the ease with which she had settled into her new role troubled him. It was no doubt a reaction to the events of the day before, both on the part of Bree and the border security team. They had needed to act quickly to replace their lost numbers. However, he found it concerning that they would place such a newly manufactured and untested android on the front lines.</p><p>Bree, it seemed, did not share his reservations in the slightest. “I’ve been here for training all night, and I’ll be headed to the border as soon as I have clearance.”</p><p>“Tell me exactly what happened,” Connor said, modulating his voice so that it sounded like friendly inquiry and not concern. Bree was clearly in the process of formally uncoupling from the Belle Isle network and becoming fiercely independent; she wouldn’t react well to concern. “Did you volunteer for this position?”</p><p>“Not exactly,” Bree replied. “Do you know the PC200 who goes by the name Masen? He says he used to be a police officer like you.”</p><p>“The PC200 line served as auxiliary police units. However, they lack the investigative capacities of the RK models.” Connor paused, realizing he had not answered the question. “I’m familiar with Masen. He is currently the deputy-head of border security.”</p><p>“He must have seen me talking to Markus,” Bree went on. “He asked if we knew each other. Then he asked if Markus trusted me. I didn’t know what to say, so I told him about the thirium delivery. I think he was impressed, because he said, ‘any friend of Markus’ is a friend of ours’, and he asked me to join the security team.”</p><p>That gave Connor pause. He was aware that Masen had taken on more responsibility since the attempt on the head of security’s life, but he had not known that he was now making decisions like that alone.</p><p>“Does he have authority to offer you that?” he asked.</p><p>The voice that spoke next came from behind him. “Maybe I can clarify that for you.”</p><p>Connor had not heard anyone approach, and he turned around fast to face them. His hand twitched at his side but he did not reflexively reach for his weapon, which was for the best when he realized he was looking at Masen himself. He was dressed in a fitted suit, open at the collar, and a pair of dark sunglasses, having wasted no time in adapting himself to human customs.</p><p>His superior accompanied him, though she cut a far less striking figure. The GJ500, who had - reluctantly and very late into liberation - adopted the name Rose, was a former private security guard. She lacked the social protocols of androids who interacted directly with humans, and as such preferred to remain quiet. She still wore her old uniform, and retained the LED at her temple.</p><p>She hung back while Masen strode up boldly and put his arm around Bree. She grinned up at him.</p><p>“Rose has authorized me to do some additional recruiting for the time being. Unfortunately, she lacks the persuasive touch.”</p><p>“I’m aware of the limitations of my programming,” Rose put in. She did not sound offended or annoyed at Masen’s obvious rudeness. To her, it was only a statement of fact.</p><p>“I was pretty fortunate to come across Bree,” Masen went on as if he hadn’t heard. “She’s a good kid, don’t you think, Connor?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor agreed. “She is a very resourceful young lady. But she is also from Belle Isle, and as such possessed of an unavoidable naivete. The security team is not endangering her life without first making sure she is aware of the risks, are they?”</p><p>“Connor!” Bree exclaimed in annoyance.</p><p>“It’s all right,” Masen said. “Connor is just doing what he thinks is his job. Maybe he doesn’t know you well enough yet to realize that you’re an adult and you can make your own decisions.”</p><p>“That’s right,” Bree said.</p><p>“So why don’t you tell him,” Masen went on. “What, exactly, you’ve decided.”</p><p>“To do what’s best for our people.” Bree’s voice had changed, become electrified. “No matter what the cost.”</p><p>Masen beamed like a proud parent. Rose, Connor could not help but notice, did not smile in return. She also did not protest.</p><p>“Bree, why don’t you come with us to this meeting?” Masen suggested. “It’ll be a good learning experience for you.”</p><p>Before they could move, Connor circled around to block their way. “We will be discussing classified material. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed inside.”</p><p>Masen’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “I thought you trusted Bree.”</p><p>“Whether I trust her or am fond of her is immaterial. This meeting is for authorized personnel.”</p><p>Connor was aware that Bree was looking at him furiously, as if she had been betrayed. For the moment, he could not bring himself to care. Masen had suggested a clear violation of protocol, and if his refusing the request meant that Bree was hurt and annoyed, he could live with that.</p><p>“You let me come yesterday--” Bree started to say, but Masen quieted her with a pat on the shoulder.</p><p>“What Connor says goes,” Masen told her. “I’m sure this is going to be dull anyway. I think our car is still waiting outside. Why don’t you take it back to the border? Look for someone there named Elise. She’ll be easy to spot; she’s the only Traci on guard duty. Tell her I sent you, and she’ll get you set up with your duties.”</p><p>Bree hesitated, until Masen flashed her a smile which seemed to compel her to concede. “Okay,” she said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. She cast one more glance in Connor’s direction - there was still a hint of resentment there, but she was aware now that she had overreacted - and then left without a word.</p><p>Masen watched her go, and as soon as she was out of sight his smile disappeared as if someone had thrown a switch on it.</p><p>“Let’s go,” he said to Rose. Connor followed them as they proceeded back to the conference room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Liam and Markus were already waiting when Connor entered the meeting room. Along with Rose and Masen, they made up the core of the security team.</p><p>Connor took up a position by the door, while Markus walked them through RK900’s findings. He was brief and succinct and the salient details were as obvious to everyone else as they had been to Connor. The factory-pure thirium in a place it should not be, and the obstruction of the guards. Rose took the news impassively, as she was inclined to take everything. Masen narrowed his eyes. Or at least Connor thought he did. It was difficult to be entirely sure, behind the sunglasses. “That’s very serious,” he said. “There has to be some kind of mistake, I can’t believe one of my people would willingly obstruct an authorized investigation.” </p><p>“Can’t blame them for reacting to a human in the city,” Liam said. “People are on edge, and they have every right to be.”  </p><p>“You agreed to cooperate with that investigation,” Markus reminded him. “Surely you were aware that consenting to a human police liaison means he might actually have to come into the city at some point.” </p><p>“Of course I was aware of that,” Liam said. “But I don’t think it was the best idea to have ‘some point’ be the actual day after a vicious attack on our people. People weren’t going to like that, that was predictable. Besides, they were supposed to coordinate to address the human threat.” </p><p>“They need to investigate to do that,” Markus said, and Masen nodded. </p><p>“He’s right,” he said. “And that needed to be done right away. Seconds are precious with this kind of work.” </p><p>He frowned before continuing. “And whatever’s going on with our border team, we need to know about it. This cleaning of the investigation site they’ve reported, for example, it didn’t go through me. Rose?”</p><p>“Yes?” </p><p>It appeared to bother Masen to have to clarify. “Did you clear it and not inform me?” </p><p>“No,” Rose said. </p><p>“So something’s going on. Assuming we can trust the word of this recently activated RK unit--”</p><p>“We can,” Markus said.</p><p>“-- we need to pursue things with this Traci. Will you remind me of the serial number? No Traci models were scheduled at the North border at the time, and there are several on the team. He doesn‘t mention a name in the report.”</p><p>He’d said there was one Traci, Connor thought. Elise, whom he’d sent Bree in search of. Perhaps when speaking to Bree he’d meant only one Traci was a guard on that section of the border. Connor would need those numbers.  </p><p>“445-987-226-08,” Markus said. Is that Elise? Connor considered asking him, but chose not to. Instead he waited to see if Masen volunteered it. </p><p>Masen did not. “We can pursue this internally. That might be a faster way to get to the bottom of things.” </p><p>At that point, Connor did speak up. “I don’t think that would be prudent.” </p><p>As he said it, he realized that he had been speaking to Markus rather than Masen. He’d started out looking in Masen’s direction, but then his gaze had shifted around the room without intent until Markus was looking back at him. </p><p>He also realized he didn’t know what Markus’ reaction would be. Either he would count Connor’s contribution as ‘sitting in on the discussion’, as he’d asked him to, or he’d count it as contradicting him. Somehow. Even though it hadn’t been. Not knowing what Markus was thinking was troubling. He needed a sync to hear his actual thoughts, but he could usually predict them well enough without one. Markus seemed for just a moment like he was choosing to be a stranger and it set off a wavering pulse of panic with him.  </p><p>Connor counted the seconds until he saw Markus’ face change and saw he’d been counted as sitting in and relief bloomed in his chest, though not enough of it to quell the panic. He continued. “I’d like to be present.” </p><p>“Connor, I mean this with the most sincere respect, I do,” Masen said. “Please, please believe me that I respect your skills and what you’re capable of. But I’m unwilling to submit any of my people to questioning by someone of your… background. Especially a Traci.”</p><p>“What do you mean, his background?” Markus said. It was gentle, polite but Connor heard it as a defense of him anyway. He shot Markus a grateful look and Markus smiled at him. Such a fond and reassuring smile. Unmistakable. He’d imagined things, Connor thought. Or exaggerated them. Markus was not let down by him, or mad about anything. He was just Markus, going about things the way Markus did, needing, perhaps, a little assistance, just as North had suggested. The panic was still there but he clung to that smile.    </p><p>That smile made him not want to explain. Markus shouldn’t have to know about any of that. But it was relevant information and Connor knew he had to tell at least part of it. “He’s referring to the pair of deviant Tracis I pursued before liberation, if I am correct.” </p><p>“You’re correct,” Masen said. “Tracis as a group are not likely to cooperate with you.” </p><p>“Connor won’t be interviewing her alone,” Markus said. “We’ll all be here.”</p><p>He was looking at Connor questioningly now though. He wanted more details, he just wasn’t going to ask. “This was before I deviated myself,” Connor said. </p><p>“With respect, Markus,” Liam said, and Connor noted it did seem like respect this time. Perhaps this was the effect of Markus surviving a near death experience. “Even if he’s just here she’s unlikely to talk. The Tracis really don’t care for him. And with good reason, sorry Connor.”</p><p>Connor could see Markus evaluating that. He took it seriously, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Connor has an expertise that nobody else can bring to this,” he said at last. </p><p>“Could the RK900 stand in for me?” Connor asked. “He has the same interrogation and negotiation protocol, though presumably improved.” </p><p>“I doubt that’ll help matters,” Masen said. “He looks exactly like you.” </p><p>“He’s taller,” Rose said. An odd thing for her to have noticed but not an inaccurate one. </p><p>“I don’t think that’ll make any difference.” </p><p>“He stays,” Markus said. “We need him.” </p><p>Connor nodded but he did that largely because he wanted to shake his head. Something had gotten into his thinking and had become difficult to shift. He’d have to get this right or Markus was going to be irritated with him. Markus would not continue to allow him to participate. Markus was defending him now simply because he felt bad for snapping at him earlier, but it would not last. Markus would stop trusting him and it was the worst possible time for him to do that, because Markus would not be safe and he should not be trusting anyone else. </p><p>He could hear that others were arguing about him, or else they were discussing something else. He wasn’t aware of what they discussed, however, because he could not make himself focus on it. He had to get control of himself. Markus would <i>definitely</i> stop trusting him if he gave into this. If he could just understand what was incorrect about his thoughts and put them in a less troubling order, it should not present a problem to deal with the matter dispassionately and return himself to full operation. He would be trustworthy then.    </p><p>But it wasn’t just the repetition of his thoughts, it was the speed of them. The severity of them as they rushed forward. They hit fast and they came physically, with a staticky pressure behind his eyes and a tightness in his chest. All of his skin seemed to sear and turn cold at the same time while it happened, which distracted him. If he could perhaps just take a moment with this it might help. But it wasn’t appropriate to run to the bathroom in the middle of a meeting, he told himself firmly. As if it were ever appropriate to run to the bathroom <i>at all</i>. </p><p>Markus was looking at him. They were all looking at him. It had an expectant air and he understood that he had been asked a question. He had not heard it. He couldn’t ask for it to be repeated, could he? That would be too revealing. He didn’t even know who he should ask. He’d lost track of the content but also of which voice was attached to which body and the direction speaking was coming from. It was also possible they’d already repeated it. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, not answering, and if anything else had happened in the room in that time or not. He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. If he tried to form words, he’d gasp. He wasn’t sure he hadn’t already. </p><p>“Connor?” Markus said. It sounded strange. His face looked strange too, concern moving over it, settling there. His expressions rearranged him, Connor thought. Our expressions rearrange all of us. The machinery under our skin works to produce a complete and readable composition, a statement, that was what their expressions were for. There shouldn’t be doubt about what anyone was thinking or when, at least not for Connor. </p><p>“Connor?” Markus said, again. Connor could focus on that. He looked back, into Markus’ eyes, forcing his own face to align reassuringly, to smile. Forcing his voice to be even and clear. </p><p>“Could you excuse me for a moment?” he asked.  </p><p>“Sure, what’s… are you okay?” Markus said.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Connor said. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” </p><p>He didn’t wait for another answer. He left.  </p><p>“Connor…” Markus rose to follow him. It was an automatic movement, performed without forethought. He had to check on Connor; for the moment, that was his only thought.</p><p>Liam brought him back from it. “Are you going to put this off even longer? Because of <i>him</i>? He’ll be fine, Markus. You’re the one who almost died.”</p><p>“Perhaps we should postpone,” Masen said diplomatically. “Even if he can’t be involved in questioning… whichever of the Tracis that human thought he saw last night, he has a valuable perspective. I recommend that we reconvene when everyone is present and focused on the task at hand.”</p><p>“The RK900 was there, in addition to the human,” Rose said quietly. Correcting the official record without challenging Masen’s right to get it as wrong as he liked.</p><p>Her words went ignored.</p><p>“We don’t have time to postpone,” Liam shot back. “I must be the only one who fully appreciates that we’re in the middle of a crisis.”</p><p>“Calm down,” Masen said. “You’re self-destructing. Rose and I are needed back at the border. We can’t wait for Connor to attend to whatever business called him away.”</p><p>“We don’t need Connor!” Liam pushed out of his seat, but rather than address Masen, he instead began to pace. Back and forth, one wall of the conference room to the other, as if he were testing the confines of the space. “We need to focus on this, figure out what we can control. It doesn’t seem like a hell of a lot from where I’m standing, but there must be something we can do. I don’t want to die here. Maybe Connor doesn’t care, but I do!”</p><p>Markus had done his best to listen - Liam was, after all, talking about his concerns and his fears, regardless of how he had chosen to deliver the information. He was listening intently, but it was only the last sentence that he <i>felt</i>. </p><p>It pierced behind his eyes, causing his thoughts to dissolve into static. To bring Connor up now, after everything he had endured, was such an unbelievable betrayal that for an instant Markus could not make himself form words at all. Planting his hands on the table in front of him, he got to his feet. Something felt off in his mechanical joints, a misalignment somewhere. He was tired, that was all, but he would force his way through it like he always did. Though he still did not know what he could possibly say, he opened his mouth.</p><p>It turned out to be unnecessary. Masen spoke up before Markus got a chance. “We all know Connor is committed. There’s no need to slander him when he’s not even here to defend himself.”</p><p>Liam seemed not to hear him. He reached the far wall and then wheeled back, glaring at Markus. “Does he understand what could happen? Does he even give a shit? About any of this…”</p><p>“That’s enough!” Markus had raised his voice, without knowing he would or intending to. He could not bring it back under control now; it had gotten away from him. Liam was staring at him, wild-eyed. He had never heard Markus shout before.</p><p>“That’s enough,” he said again. “Whatever problem you have with Connor, it ends now. You’re not going to use this crisis to… to…”</p><p>He had forgotten what he was going to say. He had lost the thread. His thoughts did not follow one to the next. Connor was out there somewhere, that was all he knew.</p><p>The room receded into nothing, going black. His knees unhinged. He dropped to the floor, insensate.</p><p>Less than a minute later, Markus blinked his eyes open, taking in his surroundings from where he now lay, stretched out on his back. His head was elevated slightly, propped up on Rose’s arm. When he had lost equilibrium, she had moved first to catch him as he fell.</p><p>“You did not indicate that you were low on thirium,” she said.</p><p>“I’m not.” Pressing a hand against his temple, Markus sat up. He looked around, getting his bearings, and at once he spotted Connor just inside the conference room door. He had come back when he realized that something was wrong, Markus realized. That meant he must have been able to hear them through the wall.</p><p>His heart sank, and he felt lightheaded again. Connor must have heard everything.</p><p>“My scan indicates that you are currently circulating 0.25 liters less than the recommended amount of thirium,” Rose went on. If she was irritated that Markus had contradicted her, it did not show in her voice.</p><p>“From the accident yesterday,” Liam said. “You didn’t mention you were injured.”</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Markus tried again. “It was nothing. A scratch.”</p><p>“You should still be able to function at full performance, even if you’re low on thirium. Maybe you’re experiencing an additional malfunction.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Markus said firmly. Though he still felt a little unsteady, he got to his feet. Once he was there and he had gotten his balance, he extended a hand in Connor’s direction.</p><p>Connor hesitated a long moment, regarding him with an expression so flat and unreadable that Markus could not even begin to guess what he was thinking. At last he came forward, slipping his palm into Markus’ but not lacing their fingers together with habitual familiarity.</p><p>“We were discussing the issue of interviewing the Traci number 445-987-226-08,” Markus said. “Shall we continue?”</p><p>“I’d love to,” Masen replied. “But Rose and I have to get back. We’ll find out if there actually is a Traci with that number stationed out there, and then we’ll get her side of the story. I’m sure we can clear everything up.”</p><p>Markus managed to keep his expression neutral, even when he felt Connor’s grip on his hand tighten subtly. He could not remember agreeing to that plan, but he felt as if he could no longer protest it. Liam had gone quiet as well, giving the impression that he was willing to concede. Markus wondered briefly if they were allying against him, before dismissing the thought out of shame.</p><p>After Masen and Rose had departed, Liam lingered a moment more. He was still backed against the far wall, where he had positioned himself during his outburst earlier. His eyes narrowed, as if it were difficult for him to move from the spot, but in the end he managed it.</p><p>He came forward, planting himself in front of Markus. </p><p>“I apologize,” he said, very quietly. “To you as well, Connor. I don’t know what caused my irrational behavior. I will run a thorough system diagnostic to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”</p><p>“Do that,” Markus replied. And then, “Take care of yourself.”</p><p>Liam dipped his head and slipped out of the room. Markus was left alone, with Connor, who was so still and quiet at his side it was almost as if he wasn’t there at all.</p><p>Markus looked down at him, and though Connor turned his face up to meet his gaze, there was nothing in his flat, emotionless eyes that indicated what he might be thinking.</p><p>“Let’s go,” Markus said. “We can’t proceed from where we are.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This extremely long chapter had to get split into two chapters, the second of which will be up tomorrow or the next day. It's worth it, however, for the very adorable slow burn that is unfolding.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At 7:34, Detective Reed stepped through the front door of the police precinct. RK900 had not expected him so early, but it was just as well that he was here. Markus had told him not to risk another trip across the border into the occupied city, and so he had passed the interim in a semi-idle state in the lobby of the police station. Though he had only been active for a few days and didn’t have much to compare it to, RK900 had the impression it had not been a pleasant way to spend the night.</p><p>From the look of him, Detective Reed had also not had a restful evening. That was more worrying. An android of RK900’s advanced make and model could still run efficiently on very little rest, but humans were considerably more fragile. They often did not act in their own best interests and needed specialized care in order to continue functioning. Why else would they have made androids in the first place?</p><p>“Good morning, Detective Reed,” RK900 said, falling into step with him as he passed. “I trust you are doing well.”</p><p>“Jesus!” Detective Reed said, with a start. “Where did you come from?” </p><p>“I will assume you mean the lobby, and are not intending to ask a broader question about android production,” RK900 said. “In which case, the lobby.”  </p><p>Detective Reed stopped where he stood. He fixed RK900 with a withering glare. “Listen up, fuckstick. It is too fucking early in the morning for any of that robot bullshit.” </p><p>“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, but I apologize.” </p><p>“Talk to me about the case or nothing at all,” Detective Reed said, and started walking again. He’d taken his phone out and was flicking through it. “You didn’t send me an update. Did you hear from your baby brother? Actually, he’s the older one, right? How does that work? No. Wait. I don’t care. No robot bullshit.” </p><p>RK900 allowed all of that to pass him by. It was not significant. He and Connor were not brothers of any order, but it did not seem useful to point that out. Detective Reed was understanding things as well as he could, as a human. “I assumed you would be resting.”</p><p>“Well, I’m not resting now, genius.” </p><p>His anger was not significant either, RK900 felt. He allowed that to wash over him too. “I received an instruction not to attempt to pass through the border again. They want more time to review the report, and they asked that we not attract attention at the border while they do so.” </p><p>“How much time?” </p><p>“Unspecified.”</p><p>“When did you get the text?” </p><p>“Shortly after I sent the report, at 4:47 this morning.”</p><p>“It took you that long to write a report?” </p><p>“To send it,” RK900 said. “I suspected it would not have their full attention until then.” </p><p>“Think they were fucking?” </p><p>Detective Reed delivered that last line with an unsavory grin. By now, they had reached his desk and he peeled off his jacket to lay it over the back of his chair before sitting down. </p><p>RK900 wondered if the grin was meant to entice him to play along, to contribute more information about Connor’s activities. He didn’t have any more information. He had been away long enough and activated so recently that his time here among the humans was almost equivalent in length to his time spent there. “If they were it would have been a poor use of their time, considering the many demands on the occupied city.” </p><p>“You mean they’re not planning to bring us all together with the power of love?” Detective Reed propped one elbow on the desk and lowered his head so could press the heel of his palm against his temple. “My head’s fucking killing me.”</p><p>RK900 regarded him silently for a long moment. He did not think Detective Reed was issuing a specific request to him, but was quick to infer what he wanted all the same.</p><p>“Pardon me a moment,” he said, and then retreated to the kitchen where he retrieved a cup of coffee and a bottle of water from the dispensers on the counter. </p><p>He brought them back to Detective Reed and set them on the edge of his desk. “I’ve detected traces of ethanol in your current biometic data. You should hydrate.”</p><p>Detective Reed raised his head enough to glare at RK900 from around his hand. When it did not seem to have the desired effect, he snatched the water off the desk and gulped it down before throwing the empty bottle in RK900’s direction. It bounced off his chest and he caught it before it could fall to the ground.</p><p>“Nobody likes a suck-up,” Detective Reed said, as RK900 moved to toss the bottle into the recycling bin. He started in on the coffee next, drinking it more slowly this time.</p><p>RK900 returned to his spot next to the detective’s desk. “You seem to be suffering from acetaldehyde accumulation.” He had not anticipated the blank look that would earn him, but upon reflection he knew that he should have. He corrected himself. “A hangover.”</p><p>“What are you, my fucking mother?” This time, Detective Reed’s anger seemed rooted in genuine annoyance. “I don’t need a shitstorm of Catholic guilt every time I want to have a couple of drinks that didn’t come direct from Jesus’ bleeding hand holes.”</p><p>RK900 felt his lips press together in confusion. It was an expression he did not want to be making, but it seemed he was not able to comport his facial articulation mechanics. “I apologize, Detective Reed. I was merely expressing concern--”</p><p>“I know,” Detective Reed said, waving his hand dismissively. “Let me guess, Connor filled you in on Hank’s whole deal. A big drunk dinosaur, lumbering around and messing everything up with his stubby little dinosaur arms. Well, that’s not me, all right?”</p><p>Again, RK900 did not intend his expression to change, but he knew that it had. “Connor did not say anything about Lieutenant Anderson to my knowledge.”</p><p>Detective Reed went on, as if he hadn’t heard. “I’m here, aren’t I? So don’t act like I’m not taking <i>your</i> problem seriously enough.”</p><p>Thoroughly baffled by now, RK900 decided it best he not say anything more until he had a chance to analyze what had happened. Clearly something had gone wrong with his social protocol programming, and now Detective Reed was displeased with him. He would have to set things right quickly if he wanted to avoid reporting an embarrassing failure in his next dispatch to Connor.</p><p>“I appreciate your assistance,” RK900 said evenly.</p><p>He was keenly aware of Detective Reed watching him with suspicion, but his annoyance seemed to be dissipating. RK900 had gathered that he always felt a low-level of annoyance, even in his resting state, but the spike appeared to be leveling out.</p><p>“Whatever,” Detective Reed said. He rolled his eyes reflexively as he bit out the word; it did not come off cutting that way, but rather petty and frivolous. </p><p>“I sent the information you had on the C4 used in the explosion over to the counter-terrorism lab for tracking," he continued. "They should be in around 8:00. I’ll call them then and get them to move their ass. If we can get the results on that, we may have some indication of who’s involved on this side of the border.”</p><p>“Explain your reasoning,” RK900 said.</p><p>“Holy shit, what have you been up to these past couple of months? Sitting around with your thumb up your ass? The rest of us have been doing a little something called watching the news.”</p><p>“I was only recently activated. I have not had time to assimilate current events.”</p><p>“Okay, recently activated idiot robot. Here’s just one tiny little insignificant detail you should probably know: Since they sent those National Guard dickheads to patrol the border, all of a sudden a lot of groups from out of state have been moving in. Sovereign citizen gun-humpers out of Montana, mostly. They all climbed off their cousins long enough to come down here and act as private security. Like I need more dumb assholes shooting their dicks off with their own sidearms.”</p><p>“You think these groups are responsible for the bombing inside the occupied city?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Detective Reed admitted. “That whole situation out there has been a clusterfuck since last year. But there wasn’t any major violence to speak of until these new groups moved in. And, since they got here, I’ve been dealing with a lot more red ice bullshit than usual.”</p><p>RK900 hesitated for a moment, considering whether or not to tell him about the thefts of thirium at Cyberlife. His primary programming objective favored caution when sharing information with outside organizations; however, when he had tried to conceal evidence from Detective Reed the night before, he had seen right through the subterfuge. He had also been very angry about it.</p><p>“I believe I may have information that is relevant,” RK900 said at last. “The androids at the decommissioned Cyberlife factory have reported stockpiles of thirium disappearing from the facility. They suspected hoarding by one of their own, but thirium is also the key ingredient in the narcotic red ice.”</p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me?” Detective Reed spat out. “You’re mentioning this now? You didn’t think to bring it up last night?” </p><p>“It didn’t occur to me that it was relevant. It seems that it could be, in the context of what you have since shared.” </p><p>“Oh, you think?” Detective Reed said, rolling his eyes. “Jesus fucking christ. It’s a possible motive, if nothing else. You don’t see that?”</p><p>He’d turned to the wire basket of papers on his desk that RK900 assumed contained memos and other cases, flicking through the papers on the top of the pile. Checking if there was anything new and immediate, RK900 assumed. There didn’t seem to be anything more pressing than what they were doing, so he turned back. He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Right. Okay. Counter-terrorism after 8, otherwise minimal instruction from the mechanical love nest. Can you call him? Try to get an update on whether or not they’ve had a chance to follow anything up? If we can’t get into robotopolis, someone needs to follow up with that guard.” </p><p>“I assume Connor will let me know when he does.” </p><p>“And when’s that gonna be?” </p><p>“I’ll call him,” RK900 said. It seemed strange and preposterous to call Connor, just as it had seemed strange to send information by text and file share. He had never even used the neural net but he felt the lack of it keenly anyway, like a limb he was programmed to use but did not have. He wondered if other androids felt that more, having had the chance to miss it, or if they felt it less, in that they might, he reasoned, have a clearer sense of why they did not wish to use it any longer. RK900 had only ever used a phone, and it still felt alien. </p><p>Connor answered right away. “This is Connor speaking,” he said, and RK900 recognized the protocol. He also recognized that it was for use with humans, and completely surplus to use with another android. And Connor would know the number, so there was no reason RK900 responded to the protocol as he did. </p><p>“This is model RK900, serial number 313-248-317-87. You have had ‘more time’ with my report, as you wished. Has it been enough.” </p><p>“I know who you are,” Connor said. “And yes. It has. I would have… called sooner but…” </p><p>He trailed off into silence. After a few moments it became evident he was not going to continue. </p><p>“Then I should assume you have an update on how we are to proceed.” </p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. Then silence again. There was something distinctly odd about it. It didn’t seem as if the silences were on purpose. It seemed as if he did not remember he was on the phone. </p><p>“What is it?” the RK900 asked. There was frustration in his voice. He could hear it. It interested him that there was a correlation between the hot feeling in his chest and what his voice sounded like. It also bothered him. It bothered him too that he was engaging in emotion while talking with another android. The inferior RK800 model no less. </p><p>It took Connor time to answer. When he did it sounded strange, as if there was space between his words, as if they were not automatically aligned but were occurring to him one by one. “Border security is going to talk to the Traci. You still shouldn’t come back through. If there’s something happening in here you’ll just put them on alert. Follow the lead with the C4.” </p><p>“We’ve already begun that,” RK900 said. “Please clarify, border security will interview the Traci themselves? Who has authorized that?”</p><p>“Markus did,” Connor said. “I think.” </p><p>“You think? You are not clear on the directive?” </p><p>“He did authorize it.”  </p><p>RK900 paused at the point of asking Connor a question. One which had never occurred to him to ask anyone, in that for humans the answers were obvious and for androids the question was not relevant. But he wanted to ask it anyway. He wanted to ask Connor if he was all right. </p><p>He didn’t. There were far more pressing matters. “I do not recommend that border security pursues the matter internally. There are strong implications the Traci did not act alone, and without investigation there is no way to be sure who is and is not involved.” </p><p>“I know,” Connor said. </p><p>“Did you tell the RK200?” </p><p>There was another long pause. If RK900 had been human, or more invested in human pretenses, he might have sighed. “Did you tell Markus?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor said.     </p><p>“And he did not agree?” RK900 prompted him. </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why did he not take your advice?”</p><p>“He had other advice,” Connor said. </p><p>Again the impulse to ask the question, are you all right. At least to find out why Connor gave so little information, why he had to keep being prompted to speak. Again, RK900 didn’t ask it. “It is vital that someone with investigative abilities continue the interviews inside the city. If you are unable, I will return and do it myself.”  </p><p>“You look too much like me,” Connor said. “That’s what they said. You can’t do it either.” </p><p>“Who is ‘they’?” </p><p>“The security team inside the city. They’re…” </p><p>Silence again. “Connor,” RK900 said. “Either continue the point you were making about the security team, or begin on an additional, relevant subject.” </p><p>That seemed to snap him out of it, whatever it was. When he spoke again, RK900 could hear that he was focusing, at last. That temporary confusion had to be more evidence of the instability inherent to the RK800 model. RK900 was not capable of losing focus like that, he assumed. He certainly could not imagine it. </p><p>“I want you to pursue the C4,” Connor said. “I also want you to consider this: why was there factory-pure thirium at the investigation site? If an android had been there and was hit, we’d have their model number at least.” </p><p>“That is correct.”  </p><p>“It resists a simple explanation. It also doesn’t prove android involvement. Humans could have been carrying thirium. It’s vital we talk to that Traci.”</p><p>“And yet you will not do that and you will not authorize me to do it.” </p><p>“Correct,” Connor said.</p><p>“That’s…” RK900 hesitated. He hesitated to the point he had decided not to say it. Then he did say it and Detective Reed looked at him oddly, as if he were surprised. RK900 did not blame him. He felt surprised himself. “That’s frustrating.”   </p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. “Did you tell… Detective Reed what we suspect about the thirium thefts?” </p><p>Connor had hesitated on naming Detective Reed. Presumably he felt embarrassment at recalling the failure of his social relations program. As he should. “I told him.”</p><p>“I think that has something to do with it. I’d like to look at the investigation site myself but there’s little reason to do so now. What could you reconstruct at the scene? You didn’t say in your report.”</p><p>“Very little. The thirium was the only unusual detail we discovered.” </p><p>“Right,” Connor said. “Right, right.” </p><p>“Is that all?” </p><p>“How is Detective Reed?” Connor asked.</p><p>RK900 looked over at him. “He is hungover,” he said, and Detective Reed opened his mouth to object. “But besides that he seems in reasonable condition.” </p><p>“Is he asking about me?” Detective Reed demanded. “Tell him I said, ‘fuck you, asshole’. Also tell him he owes me exactly $547 for when he smashed my fucking head on the desk and work insurance wouldn’t cover the cosmetic consultation.” </p><p>“He says--” RK900 began. </p><p>“I heard him,” Connor said. “Tell him I will arrange a transfer of the $547.” </p><p>“He says he will arrange a transfer of the money you have asked for.”  </p><p>“Well, gee thanks.” </p><p>“I have to go,” Connor said, abruptly. “Inform me as soon as you are aware of the origins of the C4.” </p><p>He rang off without waiting for a response.   </p><p>“That sounded real productive,” Detective Reed said.</p><p>“It was not,” RK900 replied. “It was not productive at all. Connor is behaving erratically.”</p><p>“What else is new? I swear, it’s always something with that guy.”</p><p>“I concur with your assessment. However, this seems different. He is highly preoccupied.”</p><p>“This is fucking insane” Detective Reed muttered. “Am I the only one taking it seriously that someone detonated a bomb in the middle of goddamn downtown?”</p><p>“I believe that Connor recognizes the seriousness of the situation,” RK900 said, though he did not intend it as a defense. “He became distracted when the subject of the RK200 came up.”</p><p>“Are you shitting me? This is about his boyfriend? It was obvious he needed to get laid, but he picked a real stupid time to get jizz in his circuitboard. Maybe you should go back there and kick his ass a little?”</p><p>“I have been ordered to remain here,” RK900 said.</p><p>“And good little robots always do what they’re told, I get it.” Detective Reed sighed. “Fine, since I’m stuck with you for now, we’ll work the leads we’ve got. C4 first, then we’ll hit up narcotics and see if they have anything on the new red ice that’s going around.”</p><p>That much had been clear already, but RK900 understood that Detective Reed was merely getting it all straight in his own head. Much of his running monologue seemed to be for his own benefit, though RK900 did not mind it. He was incapable of becoming irritated by human habits, but this seemed to him more than that. It was possible that he enjoyed it, the sound of another voice imposing order on the world.</p><p>He was studying Detective Reed’s face while he spoke. At first, he did not know what he was looking for, but then it occurred to him. There had been an incident with a desk, and Connor. It had been violent, that much was clear from the subtext. RK900 was searching for the evidence it had left behind.</p><p>There was a scar on Detective Reed’s nose, and a smaller one in the corner of his mouth. Both of those were too old to have been caused by a recent injury. A third, on his temple, seemed more likely. It was thin, very pale, snaking up into his hairline.</p><p>“Hey!” Detective Reed bit out abruptly. He snapped his fingers to attract RK900’s attention. “What the fuck are you staring at, creep? At least buy me dinner before you eye-fuck me like that.”</p><p>“Connor is apologetic about the physical altercation he had with you,” RK900 replied. He wondered if it was an abrupt or awkward thing to say. Detective Reed’s reaction confirmed his suspicion.</p><p>“Did he say that to you? God, he’s the fucking <i>worst</i>.”</p><p>“He did not say it explicitly,” RK900 said. “It was clear from his tone.”</p><p>“Good! I hope he’s playing the big sloppy bottom in a guilt gang-bang right now. I was in the hospital for like two days.”</p><p>“I assume your injury was incurred following his deviation,” RK900 said. Abruptly, and most certainly unbidden, a memory of being awakened in the lab underneath Cyberlife intruded on his thoughts. RK900 forced it aside. “The process can be a traumatic one.”</p><p>“You fucking wish.” Detective Reed rolled his eyes. “Your idiot little brother went off on me when he was still working for Cyberlife. That’s what gets me. Why would anyone trust something that company crapped out? They acted like they were doing us a big favor, sending a prototype over to help with an investigation in the spirit of cooperation. Any idiot could see that they were just gunning to turn another industry into a privatized robotopia corporate contract for themselves.”</p><p>“So you interfered with his investigation,” RK900 surmised.</p><p>“I…” Detective Reed looked away. It was an odd gesture, one which led RK900 to wonder if he was somehow embarrassed by the altercation, or perhaps by the fact that he had ended up on the losing end of it. “Yeah, I did. So what?”</p><p>“If I had been put into use by Cyberlife, I would have been programmed with the memories of previous RK800 units that were damaged in the course of service. The circumstances of my activation prohibited that, and so I can’t say for certain what happened between you and Connor. Regardless, there is a strong possibility he overreacted in light of how prone to injury humans can be.”</p><p>“Christ…” Detective Reed rolled his eyes again. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Sounds like you really dodged a bullet, though. Connor’s memories are like 90 percent following that dumbass Hank around and 10 percent putting jizzstains from the Eden Club in his mouth.”</p><p>“After consideration, I agree with you,” RK900 said. </p><p>Detective Reed’s eyebrows elevated slightly at that. It seemed he was asking for additional information, specifically about what consideration had gone into RK900’s decision. It was not an easy question to answer, though. Doing so required him to access some of the more recent signal types - the simulated emotions his deviated programming had been producing - and articulate them in strings of words that were not familiar.</p><p>He decided to try. “When I was first activated, I had no memories. I only had directives. But when I began to act on them I realized they were not directives at all, but merely impulses. Regardless of what the RK200 and others might say, deviation is a malfunction. It is a broken bit of code that causes the entire AI matrix to behave unpredictably. I was deviated at the point of awakening. I was broken from the moment I became aware.”</p><p>Detective Reed was looking at him strangely. RK900 assumed he had been unclear in his communication, or else he had said too much.</p><p>“Born broken, huh?” Detective Reed said. “That’s some emo shit. I like it.”</p><p>“I apologize, Detective Reed.”</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“You indicated earlier that you did not want to hear any ‘robot bullshit’ this morning.”</p><p>“I guess I did.” Detective Reed no longer seemed annoyed. His voice had become quiet again, taking on that same inward-echoing it had the day before when he processed the initial facts in the attack on the border. His eyes were focused on RK900’s face, flicking over it, logging information in his own idiosyncratic and utterly human way. “You really must be broken, to forget something simple like that.”</p><p>Abruptly, he turned away. The analytical mode that he had engaged shut off like a switch. He opened his desk drawer, produced a pack of menthol cigarettes, and extracted one to tuck behind his ear.</p><p>“I’m going over to counter-terrorism,” he announced. He was loud and brash again, which RK900 found to be a relief after the intense scrutiny he had been subject to. “Then I’m going out back for a smoke.”</p><p>“Can I assist you with either task, Detective Reed?”</p><p>“You’d better stay put. Some people aren’t exactly thrilled you’re here. I’ll get better results on my own. I won’t be long.”</p><p>Once he had left, RK900 took a seat at his desk. The work area was surprisingly clean, considering the state of Detective Reed’s car. It seemed that he was capable of maintaining a high degree of organization if he wanted to, but in some areas he deemed it unnecessary. RK900 wondered how he made the distinction as he analyzed the space, though he found little in the way of personal belongings or identifying features.</p><p>RK900 did not want to wait idle at this anonymous desk. He recalled that the day before Detective Reed had mentioned having a number of open cases. Since he had not expressly forbidden it, there was no harm in RK900 having a look at them.</p><p>He booted up Detective Reed’s computer, used a sync to bypass the password, and began to comb through the files. As indicated, several of the ongoing investigations were related to the sale and manufacture of red ice.</p><p>Detective Reed still had not returned, and so, hoping to get a better idea of the distribution of red ice throughout the city, RK900 opened the database of recent arrests and citations. These came from all over the precinct, logged by uniformed officers primarily. He progressed through the database rapidly, only scanning the information, until one file caught his eye.</p><p>“What are you doing now, Mecha-Columbo?” </p><p>Detective Reed’s voice came from behind him. RK900 did not look back, but he said, “This arrest was made yesterday evening, shortly after the shooting at the border.”</p><p>He detected the lingering smell of tobacco as Detective Reed leaned over him. There were fresh traces, but also older ones too, adhering to the fabric of his jacket. Reading over RK900’s shoulder, he skimmed the report. “Grady Towner… 47… driving under the influence…”</p><p>“Look at his state of residence,” RK900 prompted.</p><p>“Montana.” At that, Detective Reed reached down and batted RK900’s hand off the keyboard so he could scroll through the rest of the file himself. His fingers were cold from being outside.</p><p>“Holy shit. His priors are all drug and weapons violations in his home state. Possession of red ice with the intent to distribute… possession of an illegal firearm… manufacture of narcotics…” </p><p>“I suspect he may be one of the militia members you mentioned yesterday,” RK900 said. </p><p>“I could kiss you if you didn’t look twelve, you plastic freak,” Detective Reed said. “Come on. Bail hearings don’t start til 9:00 He’ll still be at central booking. We can catch him before his buddies sell off enough of the family pig farm and bespoke meth lab to get him out.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once he’d finished sending the relevant information to his phone - it took him seconds - Detective Reed turned on his heel without waiting for RK900 to agree. As if he knew RK900 would follow him. And he was right about that. Again it occurred to RK900 that he didn’t have to do any of this. He’d been correct in what he’d said, that the deviation that allowed him to even contemplate not doing it was nothing but broken coding, but that coding was there inside him all the same. He was <i>choosing</i> to follow Detective Reed through the office of the precinct, weaving between desks until they came to the elevator. He chose to get into the elevator with him and take it to central bookings. And in fact he agreed with him, and in particular about this case. That occupied his thoughts as they traveled between floors. That and the fact that it was difficult to even conceive of it as choice, when there was really little else he could have been doing. Upon recognizing that secondary fact, however, RK900 preferred never to think of it again.  </p><p>Detective Reed did not prompt him to continue talking. It did not seem that he intended to allow RK900 space for contemplation so much as that he was engaged in his own thoughts. A heat came off him as if his own mechanisms were working overtime and he tapped his foot against the floor of the elevator as if to release it. Shortly before the elevator released them - shortly before Detective Reed sprang out of the elevator like a wind-up mechanism, he said “I figured the C4 would be homemade.”</p><p>RK900 waited. </p><p>“I figured it’d be ANFO and the-sexbot-sent-by-Cyberlife was generalizing. But it’s not, it’s the real thing.” </p><p>It occurred to RK900 to mention that Connor would not be likely to generalize, but he judged that that was both unnecessary and likely to be irritating. He and Detective Reed had come to an understanding with regard to Connor that RK900 felt was satisfactory. “Counter-terrorism already had a result?” he asked instead, following him out of the elevator too.</p><p>“No,” Detective Reed said. “They can’t do shit until they hear from the ATF. But they could tell me that, that it was the real deal. They guessed it was military. Which is kind of a no-brainer because who the fuck else is commissioning it professionally. Private contractors I guess but... But I guess I was hoping we were maybe dealing with amateurs.” </p><p>“The material being for professional use does not mean that we are not dealing with amateurs,” RK900 said. “If we assume that the thefts are connected to the bombing - they can steal thirium, why not explosives?” </p><p>“Because the military takes better care of their stuff than a bunch of rogue androids. No offense,” Detective Reed said, before pausing and darting his eyes up to RK900’s face. “Some offense.” </p><p>RK900 was aware that the correct response was ‘none taken’, but he elected instead to say nothing. That was the right choice, because Detective Reed kept talking. “You’re right though. Assuming it’s stolen it’s just a matter of hours. Less, maybe. The ATF can play hard to get but sometimes she returns a booty call.”</p><p>The central booking office was a large space. The part they entered had little to it but a large, attended counter with bulletproof glass, and a door, which RK900 was aware led to the processing rooms and holding cells. It was quiet. Even this part of it would have been far busier at nearly any other time of day, and it would become busy again soon as those arrestees headed for arraignment began moving through it, but for now it was still. Detective Reed approached the first window at the counter, where a uniformed officer sat. “You’ve got someone I need to question.”  </p><p>The uniformed officer regarded him without interest. “Name?” she said. </p><p>Detective Reed held up his phone so she could see it. “Towner, Grady. DUI. You got him back there or have we started disappearing people? I keep saying we should.” </p><p>The uniformed officer gave him a withering look. “If it says he’s here, he’s here. Give me one second, if you don’t mind, <i>Detective</i>.” </p><p>RK900 wondered why she’d given such a sarcastic tone to Detective Reed’s title. It seemed specific to him. Presumably they had met before. </p><p>“You’re showing up at a shitty time,” the officer said. “They’re taking off for arraignments any minute.”</p><p>“Lady justice is on her own schedule, baby doll. Can I get him or not?” </p><p>By now the uniformed officer was ignoring him totally, focused on her own computer. “He was arrested yesterday evening.” </p><p>“I <i>know</i> that,” Detective Reed said. “Can I <i>get</i> him?” </p><p>“He’s due for arraignment this morning but there’s a lot of people in the cells, he might end up back here anyway.” </p><p>“I know how the system works. <i>Can I get him?</i>”</p><p>The uniformed officer looked up then. She looked him directly in the eyes. “You can get him,” she said. </p><p>“<i>Will you take me?</i>” </p><p>“Say please.” </p><p>“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Detective Reed said. “For fuck’s sake.” </p><p>The uniformed officer said nothing. </p><p>“Fine! Please! Jesus fucking christ, this is basically obstruction of justice.” </p><p>It seemed to the RK900 that she took her pleasure at that very discreetly. Then she exited the space behind the counter from the back and came through another door to greet them. “What else d'you think he did?”</p><p>“You saw his rap sheet,” Detective Reed said. “We think he’s done…” and he lowered his voice, hunching over towards her as if he was about to share a secret, “a crime.” </p><p>“Oh, hardee-har-har.”</p><p>“Maybe… a bad crime.”</p><p>There was nothing against procedure in telling another officer what they planned to question Grady Towner about. Detective Reed’s defensiveness did not make sense in this context. Unless he was so suspicious that even an ancillary colleague was someone to be wary of. RK900 suspected it came down to personality rather than professional procedure. Still, despite the impulse to fill the officer in, he did not. If Detective Reed preferred not to, he was willing to respect that. He kept silent as she led them down the corridor towards the holding cells, and as she conferred with the officer there. Detective Reed kept silent too. He didn’t say anything else until Grady Towner - presumably Grady Towner - was brought before them. </p><p>Grady Towner recognized RK900 at once. Not specifically, of course, but as an android. “What’re you bringing one of those fucking things for? Bad enough that you got me in here.”    </p><p>“It’s your lucky day,” Detective Reed said. “You thought you were just going to post boring old bail. But instead you get a date with me and my plastic friend here.” </p><p>Neither the holding cell officer nor the officer from the desk added anything to that. RK900 wasn’t sure he couldn’t detect some small amount of sympathy for Towner’s position. Detective Reed had mentioned that ‘some people’ weren’t ‘exactly thrilled’ he was there, but he had dismissed that as irrelevant. Perhaps that had been hasty. He remained silent. </p><p>“Is it going to say anything?” Towner said. He wasn’t struggling against his cuffs or against the way his hands were held in them, behind his back by the holding cell officer, but he seemed to loom forward anyway. There was a strange, uncomfortable threat in him, RK900 thought. As if he were only allowing himself to be restrained. And yet that could not be true. From cursory assessment, RK900 could see that he was in declining years, not particularly healthy, not particularly strong, even for a human. </p><p>It was his face, RK900 realized. He could read real hatred in it. It was an expression he had not instantly recognized, but which when he did understand it, made him think of what Markus had told him before he had left the occupied city. Markus had warned RK900 that he could not truly anticipate human cruelty without seeing it. RK900 still did not quite believe that, but he thought of it now.  </p><p>He said nothing as the holding cell officer pushed Towner towards what RK900 assumed would be an interrogation room. He had not been programmed with the floorplan of the police station, but had been programmed with the ability to access it, which continued to be a strange sensation, as if he was catching a glimpse of something he then could not see. When they entered the room, it looked as he expected it to but he could not tell, precisely, what the origin of that expectation was.</p><p>The holding cell officer sat Towner at the table in the center of the room and attached his handcuffs there. “He’s all yours,” he said, to Detective Reed far more than RK900, before departing without ceremony. Detective Reed did not look at RK900. RK900 knew why. If they looked at each other while Towner was glaring at them like that, it would seem like they were planning. </p><p>They did not give him even a moment to settle. Detective Reed stepped forward and sat down and RK900 stood with his back against the wall behind him. Towner hunched forward. “What the fuck do you want?” </p><p>“Oh you know, nothing,” Detective Reed said. “I just felt like a chat and for some reason the only person I wanted to do it with was a drunk, inbred, firearms enthusiast.” </p><p>“You’re wasting your time. I’m not telling you shit and you can’t make me without a lawy--”</p><p>“Did I ask you anything?” Detective Reed said, cutting him off. “I’m just saying hello.” He let that hang in the air for a moment before he affected a cheery smile. “Hello,” he said, waving his hand. Then he dropped the smile off his face instantaneously. </p><p>Towner said nothing to that but Detective Reed spoke anyway. “Let’s cut the shit, Towner. What the fuck are you doing driving drunk half way across the country?”</p><p>“Visiting friends,” Towner said. It was clear to RK900 from his facial and bodily cues that that was a lie, but it was also clear that Towner was not concerned that was obvious. Towner knew he couldn’t be made to answer, and so he didn’t. It had the air of a taunt.</p><p>“What friends?” Detective Reed said. “You got a bunch of bunker-crazy, no-step-on-snake buddies to pal around with out here? What are their names?”</p><p>“I told you, I’m not saying anything. And if you’re gonna detain me, you need a separate warrant because I’m due for arraignment.” </p><p>“I’ve got a little secret for you, Joe Montana. Nobody’s ‘due for arraignment’. It’s at the county’s discretion. All I have to do is say you were making a scene. Think they’re gonna listen to you, the decorated criminal, or me, the cop who works here?” </p><p>“You can’t hold me indefinitely. Not unless you’re arresting me for something else.”   </p><p>“I might be arresting you for something else.”</p><p>“Then you have to tell me what. That’s the law.” </p><p>Detective Reed leaned back in his chair. He put his palms up in front of him. His face took on a sheepish expression, but RK900 could see that it was loaded with tension, and false. “You got me,” he said. “You know your rights. Can’t get one over on you.” </p><p>“So take me back to the holding cell. And don’t even think about getting one of those lizardmen you call lawyers. I can advocate for myself.”</p><p>“Lizardmen?” Detective Reed said. “That’s a new one on me.”</p><p>“The reptilian grays have infiltrated every level of society,” Grady replied in a serious tone that indicated he did not for a moment consider that what he was saying was ludicrous. “The cops are all just their private gestapo. You might be one of them yourself. I’d have to see your feet to know for sure. Maybe you got lizard feet.”</p><p>There was a beat of silence. Detective Reed’s expression did not change.</p><p>“Well, you gotta be a platinum subscriber if you want to see my feet pics,” he said at last. “And I’m not arresting you for anything else. Yet. But I do want a little information about your friends. They wouldn’t happen to be involved with any of that tension out at the android city border, would they?” </p><p>“What “android city”? You mean that illegitimate occupation of American property that the Federal Government just decided to roll over on? That “android city”?” </p><p>“That’s the one.” </p><p>“No,” Towner said. “They got nothing to do with that.” </p><p>“They just happen to live out there, specifically?” </p><p>“Yup.”  </p><p>“I gotta tell you, Grady, that sounds like some bullshit to me.” </p><p>Hearing his first name made Towner narrow his eyes. He looked away from Detective Reed and stared RK900 directly in the face. It seemed as if he was boring into RK900 with his eyes. “Well, you’d know about bullshit,” he said, to Detective Reed but still looking at RK900. </p><p>“Would I?” Detective Reed said. </p><p>“What are you looking at, you plastic freak?” Towner demanded. Of RK900. </p><p>“You are looking at me,” RK900 corrected him. </p><p>“You just waiting for your moment to flip out and kill us all? That’ll be a nice trick for your human butt-buddy here. Get that fucking thing out of here.”</p><p>The last part of his speech had been directed to Detective Reed again. Detective Reed had folded his arms and was leaned back in his chair. “I’ve gotta keep it here,” he said. “Regulations.”</p><p>That was a lie, RK900 realized. He almost corrected him, almost asked why he had lied, but then he understood exactly why and stayed quiet. </p><p>“Isn’t that right, Tin Man?” Detective Reed asked him. He’d craned his head to look at him, but not turned the full way around. He was keeping his posture relaxed, for Towner’s benefit. RK900, however, could detect a slight tension in his shoulders as he waited for RK900’s answer. </p><p>“Under current regulations in agreement with Android Occupied Detroit, an android must be present at all investigative interviews with humans until such time as we no longer deem it necessary,” RK900 said, and Detective Reed’s shoulders relaxed.  </p><p>“Listen to how it talks,” Detective Reed said. “It’s like if an automated checkout spoke in full sentences. And they want us to think they’re alive.”</p><p>“Well nobody’s fooled,” Towner said.     </p><p>“It’s some bullshit thing the city is making us do. More of their demands. They just keep asking and we just keep giving in. Like they haven’t got enough of Detroit already. They got my fucking Mexican place.” </p><p>Towner’s eyes narrowed again. He seemed to be thinking it over. “That why you’re asking me about the border?” </p><p>“Yeah, I have to now, don’t I?” Detective Reed said. “Not bad enough they’re making us have androids on the force even though we’ve got proof positive you can’t fucking trust them, we’ve got to waste police resources on android problems. And lucky you, I’m making my problem your problem.” </p><p>“Well, I can't help you out. I’m down here visiting friends, I had a few too many, I got pulled over. I don’t know anything about the border.” </p><p>“See, that’s what I figured,” Detective Reed said. “They told me I had to check you out because you’re from out of state. They’re convinced humans are interfering with their occupation as if they can’t fuck it up themselves, paranoid there’s some militia thing happening. Like a bunch of walking calculators and automatic coffee machines know how to run a city. This is a waste of both of our time.”</p><p>“Glad to see you agree.” </p><p>“I’m just gonna ask you what I have to ask you so it doesn’t rat me out. We can get you back in time for arraignment.”</p><p>Towner leaned back in his chair now too, as much as he could while handcuffed. “Fire away, officer.” </p><p>“Detective,” Detective Reed said. “What were you doing before you were arrested?” </p><p>“Drinking with friends.” </p><p>“Why’d you come to Detroit?” </p><p>“Being sociable.” </p><p>“You sell any red ice while you’re out here?” </p><p>Towner’s mouth twisted into a long smile. “Nope.” </p><p>“Can you give me the names and addresses of the friends you were drinking with?” </p><p>“Not without a warrant.” </p><p>“Good enough for me,” Detective Reed said. “Okay, let’s get you back to the cells.”</p><p>When he stood up, he turned and shot a desperate look to RK900. RK900 understood it at once. </p><p>“Sit down, Detective,” he said. “It is not good enough for me.” </p><p>He saw Detective Reed’s shoulder’s go up, his entire body surging into them like a half-feral animal bristling in anticipation of a fight. </p><p>“What the fuck did you say to me?” he snarled, turning on RK900.</p><p>“I would like to question the suspect,” RK900 replied. Though he understood the deception that was at work here, and he concurred with Detective Reed’s strategy, he still found that it was hard to contradict him. It was because he was a human, RK900 thought at first, but that was not precisely why. </p><p>Detective Reed was not just <i>a</i> human; he was one particular human. RK900 knew his temperament and his strange habits, none of which could be mistaken for the habits of anyone else. RK900 did not understand specifically how he felt about knowing someone so intimately, but he was sure the feeling was a good one and he didn’t want to lose it. He didn’t want Detective Reed to talk about him like he talked about Connor. He might, if RK900 made him angry, if he disappointed him. He might lose that ambiguous good feeling and never find it again.</p><p>“You don’t like the way I ask questions?” Detective Reed said, his voice low, possessed of a dangerous edge</p><p>RK900 studied his face and found nothing there that was encouraging or forgiving. Regardless, he did not look away as he made himself continue. “You have not performed to an adequate standard.”</p><p>“Listen to this piece of shit,” Detective Reed said, turning abruptly back to address Towner. “It thinks it can do this better than me. They all go berserk and they still think they can come in here and take our jobs.”</p><p>“It’s a conspiracy,” Towner said. “It’s how the One World Government plans to control us.”</p><p>“Fuck yeah, it is,” Detective Reed replied. He returned to RK900 and continued, “You can’t just harass honest people like this.”</p><p>“You may leave if you don’t want to assist in my interrogation,” RK900 said, then he started for the chair that Detective Reed had vacated.</p><p>Towner’s reaction to that was odd. First, he jerked away, as far as he could with the cuffs around his wrists. Then he seemed to recall himself and he came back to the table, drawing himself up to his full height as if he could intimidate RK900 into backing down.</p><p>He shot a glance in Detective Reed’s direction. “Don’t leave me alone with it. It only needs a second to implant one of its microchips.”</p><p>“It’s got five minutes to talk,” Detective Reed said, taking up a position by the door. “I’m watching you, android. So don’t step out of line.”</p><p>RK900 took a seat. Towner continued to stand, hunching over him, glaring with that same cold hatred. RK900 tried to not be unnerved by it.</p><p>“Mr. Towner, are you involved in the production and sale of red ice?” he asked.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Your arrest record from the state of Montana indicates otherwise.”</p><p>“They got the wrong guy.”</p><p>“Five times?” RK900 asked. “You are very unlucky if that’s the case, Mr. Towner. Tell me, are you aware that the active ingredient in red ice is derived from thirium?”</p><p>“Blue blood?” Towner snorted. “That’s about the only good thing you plastic assholes ever did for us.”</p><p>“Where do you acquire the thirium used in your narcotic production operation?”</p><p>“I told you,” Towner said. “I don’t make red ice. But if I did, I wouldn’t have any problem bleeding one of your kind dry to get the stuff.”</p><p>RK900 glanced up at his face and found that a shadow had fallen over it. He was glaring down at RK900 as he said, “I wouldn’t mind stringing you up like a hog. Cutting you open and watching all that blue life drain out. It’s a shame you wouldn’t feel it.”</p><p>A chill passed through RK900’s body and he felt a sharp and sudden tightening of the valve in the back of his throat. Behind him, a faint whisper of fabric as Detective Reed shifted on his feet. He didn’t move or speak, though, and RK900 allowed the disquieting sensation to pass.</p><p>“You are right,” he said evenly. “Androids are not able to feel pain. However, I can infer from your statement that you ran out of decommissioned models in Montana, and so you’ve come here to acquire more thirium.”</p><p>Towner snorted. “You’re fucking crazy.”</p><p>“I understand the logic,” RK900 went on, as if he hadn’t heard. “But if that is the case, then why cause an incident at the border? You succeeded only in damaging units that you might have used in narcotics production. It seems an illogical action on your part. Perhaps even a foolish one.”</p><p>“You think anyone is going to give a shit about a couple of sexbots and garbage collectors playing soldier? You’re only good for your blood. No one cares what happens to you, to any of you. Not even the smart one.” Towner laughed. “The one who’s always on TV. He thinks he’s hot shit, but no one even cared when he went and got his stupid ass blown up?”</p><p>RK900 was quiet for another moment, letting the words settle in the room. Again, that almost imperceptible shift from behind him, but Detective Reed still did not move. He was waiting.</p><p>“That is an interesting statement,” RK900 said. “No news about the attempt on the life of the RK200 known as Markus was made public. How did you find out, Mr. Towner?”</p><p>Towner’s reaction was instantaneous: He surged forward, making a grab for RK900’s throat. The cuffs around his wrists pulled him up short, but RK900 felt himself shrink away subtly, as another unfathomable chill ran through him.</p><p>“You think you’re smart?” Towner said.</p><p>“I am possessed of an advanced artificial intelligence,” RK900 replied. “Far in excess of you or any other human. The service models that were patrolling the border yesterday were also no doubt mentally and physically superior to the majority of humans.” </p><p>“You’re not shit!” Towner was shouting now. His fury had come on abruptly, and he fairly twisted himself over the table as he yelled. “I’m the hero here! History will recognize what I did as the act of a patriot. And you… your fucking kind. You think you’re the victims? You sell each other out for a few cases of blue blood and are still stupid enough to think humans will protect you!”</p><p>The chill intensified at those words. RK900 bolted to his feet. “Who is your contact inside the occupied city?”</p><p>At that, Towner laughed. It had a hysterical edge to it. “Who the fuck knows? All you plastic pieces of shit look the same to me. You’ll never find him, though. Your cop friend there won’t even arrest me. No one cares what happens to any of you.”</p><p>RK900 felt his hands clench into fists at his sides. He opened his mouth to speak, having no idea what he might possibly say but certain that it would be illogical and regrettable.</p><p>A light touch on the back of his shoulder stopped him. Detective Reed pressed his hand there briefly as he stepped forward, letting it drop as soon as he knew RK900 had registered it. He was telling him to stop, that it was enough. RK900 understood that, somehow.</p><p>“You got me dead to rights, Grady,” Detective Reed said. “Here’s me not arresting you.”</p><p>He unlocked one of the handcuffs. Towner started to straighten up, but Detective Reed moved fast, turning him bodily and shoving him face-first into the wall of the interrogation cell while he read out his rights.</p><p>“History is going to remember you too, traitor,” Towner said as Detective Reed recuffed his wrists behind his back.</p><p>“Looking forward to it,” Detective Reed replied briskly. </p><p>The uniformed officer had come back into the room, having watched the entire thing unfold through the one-way glass. Detective Reed handed Towner back to her. “Be a pal and keep an eye on this big fella until the ATF gets here?”</p><p>Towner started at the words, whipping back around to stare at Detective Reed.</p><p>“I guess I forgot to mention that. Must have slipped my mind. The lizardmen are on their way, Grady, and if you didn’t like that Eiffel Tower me and Robocop here just pulled on you, then you’re really going to hate what they do.”</p><p>“You fucking traitor--” Towner started to say again, as the uniformed officer pushed him towards the door.</p><p>“See you never, hayseed,” Detective Reed called after him. </p><p>A moment later, Towner was gone. As the door slammed shut behind him, Detective Reed wiped his hands on his jeans and came over to the other side of the table to look up into RK900’s face.</p><p>It was quiet now - the quiet was very striking to RK900, after the crosstalk and raised voices of the interrogation. He was, of course, aware that such situations could become heated, but it was his first time actually experiencing one. His thirium pump was beating fast, and he was aware that his face was hot, though the rest of his body was still in the grip of an inexplicable cold.</p><p>Detective Reed just watched him a moment, his expression unreadable. Again, RK900 wondered if he was somehow displeased, if he had somehow failed to register a non-verbal cue or meet this human’s expectations. Even though, in the end, Grady had made a number of incriminating statements, RK900 was sure that he had somehow underperformed, made some grievous misstep.</p><p>All at once, Detective Reed laughed: a short, hoarse sound, but genuine. He reached out and slapped RK900 on the shoulder. It took him a moment to realize that it was a gesture of appreciation.</p><p>“Good work,” Detective Reed said. “You ought to do some community theater if you’re going to put on a show like that.”</p><p>“I merely adhered to my programming directives,” RK900 said.</p><p>“Come on. It’s what, your third day alive? Take the compliment from a superior officer.”</p><p>“I…” RK900 paused. It was not an organic hesitation; rather, he forced himself to come to a full stop, to back up and begin his reply anew. “Thank you, Detective Reed. I was following your lead, though.”</p><p>“Sorry I had to call you an automatic checkout. You’re not robo-pissed at me, are you?”</p><p>Interesting that he would apologize. It seemed sincere, too, and with that recognition came that good feeling RK900 had noticed before. How genuinely unusual. “I understood the need.” </p><p>“Okay, good. Great. I mean, you’ve got a better AI than an automatic checkout. I guess.” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>For a moment, Detective Reed was still. He seemed to be thinking, and then he was looking at RK900 and thinking. And then he was done. “We need his phone,” he said. “God I hope it was fucking seized when they booked him.”</p><p>“I beg your pardon?” </p><p>“His phone’ll have the contact. Whoever it is in the city. I mean, it might, but he’s clearly stupid enough. It’s probably in there under ‘thirium guy; illegal’.” </p><p>RK900 waited. Then he realized he did not want to wait in silence. His brow furrowed as he recalled Grady’s words from earlier. “Perhaps he has included the annotation ‘not a lizardman’?” he added tentatively.</p><p>Detective Reed looked at him blankly for a second. RK900 had long enough to feel his cheeks beginning to grow warm, before Detective Reed gave another short, creaky laugh. “Nice one,” he said, before instantly turning back to the business at hand. “If they’ve got it, if we can get a warrant for it… shit.” </p><p>“I imagine a warrant for Towner’s phone would be simple to procure given his confession.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Detective Reed said. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Detective Reed,” RK900 said, and Detective Reed looked up at him. </p><p>“I can--” RK900 continued but Detective Reed cut him off. </p><p>“You know, that’s really starting to grate,” he said. “I didn’t think it would, because frankly I am owed a little respect, but it really is.” </p><p>It was just as RK900 had suspected. There was something he’d done to irritate him he hadn’t even been aware of. He felt something inside of him sink. “I apologize, what is?”    </p><p>“‘Detective Reed’,” Detective Reed said. “My name is Gavin.”</p><p>“Are you saying that you would like me to call you Gavin in preference to Detective Reed?”</p><p>“‘...in preference to…’ oh Jesus. Yeah, sure. Call me Gavin.”</p><p>RK900 wasn’t sure what to make of the sensation that followed that. Though he knew it was not an unpleasant one. “As you wish.”</p><p>“Okay, Princess Bride. What do I call you? I mean, besides asshole.”</p><p>The sensation that came at that question was stranger still. “I am model RK900, serial number 313-248-317-87,” RK900 said. “I am still technically a Connor model but… if you do not mind… I would prefer not to be called Connor.” </p><p>“Oh yeah, you got it. Understandable. Shit, does Connor even want to be associated with Connor?” </p><p>“You could simply refer to me by my model number.” </p><p>“RK900? How about just RK?” </p><p>RK900 found himself speechless. He nodded. </p><p>“Okay,” Gavin said. “Jesus, I’m fucking hungry. Let’s put this warrant in and eat.” </p><p>He pulled his own phone as he said that and seemed to be checking something. After a moment he added, “Connor’s buying.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor didn’t know what had happened to Markus at the meeting. He knew what Markus had told him, while they were being driven home, that he’d lost focus momentarily, that he’d passed out, that was all (‘that was all,’ he said). But Connor didn’t know why or how that could be possible. He wanted to ask how it could be possible but when he tried he found he couldn’t speak. It was somehow impossible to speak, because every time he started to arrange what he wanted to say, it slipped apart and he couldn’t hold it together. Then, if he did form something, he couldn’t make it emerge. He felt as if he were pitching it at the world from somewhere inside of himself, but without aim, and the world was very far away. </p><p>He knew he must seem erratic. He knew he should stop behaving this way, should act differently, should animate himself and be reassuring. He knew he should try to hold Markus’ hand tighter, but even that ability to move he lacked. The muscles in his hand would not operate. Something fundamental had been severed but it was not revealing itself in a diagnostic.   </p><p>He didn’t know what had happened to Markus but he did know he hadn’t prevented it. That was a mistake. He had left at the wrong time, allowed his thoughts to sour at the wrong time, not anticipated something important, and it was a mistake, unquestionably. He kept making mistakes. At a certain point he would make too many. He didn’t know exactly where that threshold was, or how he could possibly know things were mistakes until he’d done them, but he did know that it was close. Too many mistakes. Uncountable, if he’d been human. But he wasn’t human, so he logged each of them exactly, and with precise detail.</p><p>When they got out of the car at the Inn, Markus squeezed his hand. “I’m all right,” Markus said, and Connor looked at him. His face was really remarkable. Such a work of art. Even his smallest movements were graceful. Connor wanted to tell him that but the words were still too far away. Markus was too far away, even if they were touching. He wasn’t sure they should be touching. He didn’t think Markus would want them to touch, if he knew. </p><p>Markus knew something. His eyes searched Connor’s face for a moment. His odd-colored eyes. “Listen, what you heard…”</p><p>“Please,” Connor said. “Don’t worry.”   </p><p>It took so much effort to say that, and it didn’t even work. Markus’ face was still crumpled up in concern. Connor wanted to touch it, like he’d done before when they’d been lying together, talking together, in every moment they’d had in the past two months that wasn’t urgently full. Markus could feel so much, he felt the weight of everything and Connor could do so little about that. There had been times though, when he thought he had figured out how to do something. All he’d done was touch his face, stroke there, curl his hand until he was cupping his cheek, but it seemed like that had been something. Markus had seemed to relax. Markus had looked at Connor gratefully. He’d kissed him.  </p><p>But those events had already occurred. That was not right now. Right now, they were standing on the street and Connor was not moving and something had happened to Markus and Markus looked like he looked when Connor wanted to touch him but Connor couldn’t touch him. And he didn’t think he could again or would even remember how. </p><p>He tried to shift his face into something more reassuring but he encountered the same issue as he had with his hand. A link was severed and he could not find it. </p><p>Markus examined his face again. “Connor…” he said.</p><p>Connor looked back at him. It was all he could do. </p><p>“Come on,” Markus said, at last. “We could both use a moment to regroup. Don’t you think?” </p><p>There was something desperate about that last question. As if he were trying to trick Connor into talking by asking about something simple. Connor saw it and wished he could oblige, but he couldn’t. Another mistake. And he hadn’t even meant to make it. </p><p>He followed Markus into the building and up to their room. Markus didn’t drop his hand until he had to do it to open the door. And then once they were inside and Connor had taken his coat off Markus wrapped his arms around his waist. He pulled him close. He laid his head on top of Connor’s. </p><p>Connor thought Markus would ask him something. He was anticipating that. A question about what Connor was thinking, what he was feeling. What was wrong with him. He was anticipating that and thinking, thinking wildly about how he could possibly answer it. Firstly, how he could physically answer it at all and secondly, what exactly he could say. Even at this pace his thoughts lacked coherence. He realized he wasn’t hugging back. He tried to. It felt wrong. He stopped.</p><p>At last, Markus pulled away from him and held him at arm’s length. He studied him again. He still looked worried. He moved one of his hands up to Connor’s hair, stoking it back behind his ear. Traveled it down and rested it on his shoulder. His mouth, Connor thought. Markus’ mouth made a little pout when he was worried. It was almost heart-shaped. </p><p>After a moment, Markus let go. He took his phone out of his pocket and took it with him to the couch. It was clear he needed to sit down. It was clear he’d needed to sit down for hours. Connor should have protected him from that, but he hadn’t. He followed him now but only because he wasn’t sure what else to do.</p><p>Markus smiled at him when he did that. It was confusing. Perhaps following him was simply movement enough to look like action.  </p><p>Connor sat down, and Markus glanced up from his phone and over to him. “If you need some space, I don’t mind.”</p><p>To Connor, it sounded like a dismissal. Like Markus wanted nothing more than to be rid of his burdensome presence for a time. But he was kind - too kind - even after everything Connor had done, he was still taking care of him.</p><p>Connor didn’t have the strength to get up again. When he tried, his body rebelled against the notion and instead he crumpled over so he was resting on Markus’ shoulder. There was a long moment in which Markus did nothing at all, and the entire time Connor felt the knot in his stomach twisting tighter and tighter, until at last Markus’ arm hooked around his waist and drew him closer.</p><p>“Oh, my love,” he murmured. “We’ll be all right. I promise.”</p><p>Connor shrank at the words, curling over so his head was resting on Markus’ chest. He could hear the steady throb of his heart, and as he listened to it he managed to gasp out, “Will we?”</p><p>“Yes.” The word came out in a sigh. Markus sounded relieved, comforted that Connor was speaking to him at last. He was bound to be disappointed; Connor had already lost his voice again.</p><p>Setting his phone aside freed up Markus’ hand so he could tilt Connor’s chin back and look him in the face. Connor stared back at him, into those lovely eyes that he was still so ashamed to like. They were framed by long, thick lashes. Perhaps if he focused on those, he could avoid upsetting Markus again. He could avert another mistake.</p><p>Markus looked as if he wanted to speak. His lips parted slightly, and he appeared thoughtful, as if searching for the right words. He never got a chance to say them; at that moment, Connor’s phone went off.</p><p>Connor reached into his pocket, fumbling the device free. His fingers were stiff and clumsy, and he almost dropped it before Markus’ hands cupped around his, steadying them.</p><p>“Let me,” he said softly, extracting the phone from Connor’s grip. “I’ll take care of this.”</p><p>Connor relinquished his hold, looking away as he did so. Aware that he had failed once more to perform even the most basic of tasks. Mortified by that, and equally mortified that it felt so good to surrender to someone else.</p><p>“This is Markus,” he said, answering the call. </p><p>Gently, he tightened his grip on Connor’s waist, pulling him back against his body. When he was this close, Connor realized he could hear both sides of the conversation. Markus had done it deliberately; as impossible as it seemed, he trusted Connor even now.</p><p>RK900’s voice sounded faint and far away. “This is model RK900, serial number 313-248-317-87. I am calling to file my report.”</p><p>“Hello, RK900,” Markus said. “Are you holding up all right?”</p><p>There was a long silence. It seemed that RK900 was struggling with what to say next. “Markus, if you prefer, you may refer to me as RK. It is an acceptable alternative to my full model number, provided it does not cause confusion for you.”</p><p>“RK,” Markus echoed. “It suits you.”</p><p>“It is the preference of certain humans I have interacted with,” RK said. “I have elected to adapt to their expectations.”</p><p>“I see. Would one of those humans happen to be Detective Reed?”</p><p>“I fail to understand how that affects my decision,” RK said. There must have been something in his tone that Connor missed, because he saw Markus’ lips quirk into a smile.</p><p>“All right, RK. I’ll be sure to remember.”</p><p>RK was quiet for a split-second. It barely could barely be counted as a pause at all, but Connor recognized that it was significant. He was debating what to say next.</p><p>At last, he spoke, “Markus, where is Connor?”</p><p>“He’s here.” Markus glanced towards him, and Connor made a great effort to appear alert and engaged. “But he’s a little busy. I’m in a better position to take your report at the moment.”</p><p>“Before I issue it, I would like to discuss some troubling information that has come to my attention. This morning, Connor informed me that you allowed the Traci model who is under suspicion to be interviewed by members of the border patrol. Can you confirm this?”</p><p>Markus sighed. He seemed not to want to answer, but he was unable to avoid doing so. “That’s correct.”</p><p>“I fail to see the logic in your decision,” RK went on. He did not sound angry, or frustrated, or much of anything, but Connor could tell that he was struggling with some intense emotion. “Connor was willing to perform the interrogation, was he not?”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus said. “He was. But there were other factors to consider.”</p><p>“And so you left an important task in the hands of individuals who were not qualified. Whom you could not even trust.”</p><p>“I appreciate that you found some concerning evidence, but that doesn’t mean I can stop trusting my people. I had to follow the consensus, no matter what my personal feelings on the matter might be.”</p><p>“You trust your people,” RK echoed. There was venom in the words, and Connor was torn between wanting to leap to Markus’ defense, and feeling vindicated. This second was disturbing to him, as it seemed to come from an uncharitable and not particularly productive impulse.</p><p>RK went on: “Do you trust Connor?”</p><p>“Of course I do,” Markus said. He glanced toward Connor and gave him a reassuring smile. It seemed to come easily to him, and Connor envied him for that. “This has nothing to do with how I feel about him.”</p><p>“If that is the case, then you must know that Connor would do anything to protect you.” </p><p>That came as a surprise. The sentiment, of course, but also the forthright way that RK said it, as if he were simply reciting the facts of the matter. Connor shifted in Markus’ arms, making himself move, holding his hand out to take the phone back. </p><p>Markus pretended he did not see the offer.</p><p>“Connor <i>is</i> doing everything in his power to protect you,” RK went on. “As am I. Even Detective Reed wants to resolve this situation quickly. Therefore, I must request that you refrain from making any further decisions that compromise all of our abilities to do so.”</p><p>He got it all out in one breath, and when he was finished he sat in silence, waiting for Markus to respond.</p><p>It took Markus a moment to speak again. At last he said, “All right, RK. I understand. I made a mistake with regards to the Traci.”</p><p>“We may have lost that lead entirely,” RK said.</p><p>“I acknowledge that,” Markus replied. “It won’t happen again. Do you have more information for us?”</p><p>“I do,” RK replied. “Would you like me to return to tell you in person?”</p><p>Markus hesitated again, but this time it was clear to Connor that he was thinking. He was turning all his attention to RK’s question, determined to make the right decision this time and to do so confidently and without apprehension. Beside him, Connor stirred, found his voice. It was easier this time, now that he knew exactly what Markus needed.</p><p>“Tell him to stay,” Connor said. “He’s in a good place right now.”</p><p>Markus looked down at him for a moment. His eyes were soft, tender, but when he spoke his voice was neither. “Hold your position,” he told RK. “Continue to foster goodwill with Detective Reed.”</p><p>“I understand,” RK replied. “Is Connor available to hear developments in the case?”</p><p>“He’s here,” Markus said. “Go ahead.”</p><p>“At 4:47 yesterday afternoon, the Detroit Police Department made a routine arrest. After interviewing the subject, it was determined that he was involved in the thefts at the Cyberlife factory.”</p><p>“So they were orchestrated by humans. Belle Isle wasn’t involved.”</p><p>“There was little in the interview to suggest he collaborated with the android residents of Belle Isle.”</p><p>“That’s a relief.”</p><p>“However,” RK said sharply, indicating that he was not pleased to be interrupted, “based on the evidence we obtained from the interview, we were able to acquire a warrant to search the suspect’s phone--”</p><p>He was poised to continue, but it was at that moment that a knock came on the door of their suite. Connor reacted to it instantly, reaching up to set a hand over Markus’ wrist. Markus understood the gesture implicitly, and he was quick to say, “RK, wait.”</p><p>“I was coming to an important point, Markus.”</p><p>“Someone is here.”</p><p>RK paused, digesting that. In the second that it took him to respond, there was another knock. It was soft and polite, unobtrusive, but they could not ignore it. It would be impossible to pretend that they weren’t here; everyone always knew where Markus was.</p><p>“I understand,” RK replied. “We’ll keep this information confidential for now. Call me back as soon as you are alone.”</p><p>“We won’t be long,” Markus said.</p><p>“Exercise caution,” RK told him just before he hung up.</p><p>Once he was off the phone, Markus called the visitor in. He didn’t get up to answer the door - he didn’t need to, any android could override the lock themselves - but also it seemed he didn’t want to let go of Connor. And Connor wanted to stay pressed against him. But he forced himself back, made himself put distance between them. It had never occurred to him to find issue with touching or being touched by Markus in front of others but something about this seemed different. His face and his movements and the fragility with which he was allowing himself to be held would give something away that he sincerely did not want known. </p><p>He did not regret having made that decision when Bree entered the room. Bree in particular he thought he should demonstrate composure in front of. It seemed apparent to Connor that instability would distress her. He could tell that from the way her genuineness shone through her programmed politeness. Though he couldn’t force himself to greet her aloud, he nodded and he tried to smile. Markus stood up. To cover for him, Connor understood, and it flooded him again with both shame and gratefulness. </p><p>“Markus!” Bree said, “are you all right?” </p><p>Of course she wanted to ask that. Because he’d passed out. That was all, Connor kept hearing him say about it. That was all. He shut his eyes so the phrase would stop repeating for him. He hoped he did that briefly enough that no-one would notice. Bree had shot a look at him but had not addressed him. That would be about earlier, most likely. He wished he could say something. Not apologetic, but reassuring at least. </p><p>“I’m fine, Bree,” Markus said. “How are you?” </p><p>“This is where you live?” Bree said. Connor could see her taking the room in. He could tell she wanted to examine it but was too polite to ask. It must have seemed very human to her, he thought, these soft furnishings and the little table where humans would have taken their meals. Their things scattered around too, and looking as she might look Connor could see that it was strange that they even had things to scatter. Bree had seen spaces like this before but not perhaps androids living amongst them, on their own, not for any purpose. </p><p>“Yes, it’s home for now,” Markus said. “Where are you staying? Still on Belle Isle while you’re not working?” </p><p>“I don’t know!” Bree said. “I haven’t stopped working yet!” </p><p>That made Markus smile. “That’s dedication,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of a chair. “You should sit down for a while. Tell us about it.” </p><p>She’ll be here for a reason, Connor thought to say. But Markus must know that. There was no reason to correct him. He was being polite. Not because he was following a protocol, but because he was Markus and this was how he truly felt others should be treated. Connor could not criticize him for that, but he wished he would sit down again. That was all.</p><p>“I can’t stay,” Bree said. “I’m here to bring you something, we thought… well, Masen thought… you shouldn’t be operating at a reduced thirium level. Not now.” </p><p>“It’s barely reduced,” Markus told her, gently, but firmly. “0.25 liters. That’s well below a loss that immediately needs replacing.”</p><p>“But you…” </p><p>“A minor malfunction,” Markus said. “I’ve run a diagnostic and corrected the issue.” </p><p>That was a lie, Connor realized. It had to be. He had been with him but for the short phone call from RK900 and his brief manipulation of his banking application afterwards. Admittedly he had been distracted. In particular, using the banking application had occupied him because it was not in his name and he had not used it since he had been outside, in the human city. But even that could not have taken him long enough for Markus to do what he’d claimed. Further, Connor had detected no evidence of such a malfunction himself. </p><p>He would not tell Bree that Markus was lying. He would not embarrass Markus in that way or allow him to show weakness. He would do something to protect him at last. He would speak. “It couldn’t hurt to restore yourself to full operation,” he said. </p><p>His voice sounded so hoarse that he pressed his lips together in embarrassment at it. Markus had turned to look at him and at first he seemed appreciative, presumably because Connor had spoken again, but then he paused to consider what he had said. </p><p>“I can’t take thirium. Not now. We’re at a crisis level shortage. It could mean the difference between life and death for one of our people.” </p><p>He would not accept that he was <i>important</i>. “0.25 liters is an acceptable amount for you to consume, even at our current levels.” </p><p>“I can manage.” </p><p>That’s absurd, Connor wanted to say. He did not. He ached to contradict him, to grab his hand and pull him close and demand he take this seriously. But he didn’t, and in actuality he could not have done. His body still felt leaden and his words stiff. He looked away. </p><p>When he looked back, Markus was studying his face again. With concern but also with intense concentration. Connor didn’t know what he was looking for but whatever it was, it was serious. </p><p>“Please take it, Markus,” Bree said. “Please. We couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.” </p><p>Markus was going to tell her that they could bear it, Connor thought. He was going to give Bree the same speech he had given Connor, about how all of their lives mattered equally much, that he, Markus, wasn’t more necessary than anyone else. Connor felt for Bree that she’d have to hear it, but he also hoped she would instantly see it for the falsehood it was. He hoped she would tell Markus that directly. Perhaps if someone else told him Markus would understand. </p><p>But Markus did not say it. As if he somehow knew, when he wasn’t talking to Connor, what a cruel thing it was to say. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” was all he said.  He’d sat down again now but Connor didn’t take his hand. </p><p>“Masen said I have to give it to you,” Bree said. “I’m not supposed to take no for an answer.”</p><p>“And you can tell him I refused. I understand the reasoning but these supplies are needed.” </p><p>“You’re needed, he said. He said he’d done the interview you wanted and it was just a misunderstanding and that means that the human threat is even more pressing. We need you.” </p><p>Something about that pricked Connor’s interest enough that he’d spoken before he intended to. “Border security has conducted the interview already?” </p><p>“Yes, that’s what he said. I wasn’t told what it was about.”</p><p>“What details were you given?” Connor said. “We haven’t had a report, is your statement that it was ‘a misunderstanding’ intended as a full report?” </p><p>Bree’s mouth twisted and her shoulders seemed to shrink. She looked hurt. “I don’t know, Connor. I wasn’t told.” </p><p>“I’ll contact him,” Connor said. He said it very firmly, as if speaking firmly would guarantee being able to act. It was also firmly enough to add to Bree’s hurt. He regretted that, but the need to make himself move was far more pressing. He held out his hand for his phone and Markus gave it to him. </p><p>“He said he’d contact you later,” Bree said.  </p><p>“I’ll contact him now.” </p><p>“Connor, he <i>said</i>. He was very clear. I’ve been given orders and I have to follow them.” </p><p>“I understand that,” Connor told her. “But if there’s a report I need to hear it immediately. I’ll tell him that you told me to wait, and explain that I’ve overridden you. You won’t be blamed.” </p><p>“I’m supposed to give Markus the thirium.” </p><p>“Then give it to him,” Connor said, and then he was dialing. He regretted the sternness of his words but he did not have time to stop and correct them. If he did that, he thought, he might lose the momentum he was relying on.   </p><p>Markus watched Connor’s face again while he rang. He watched it for several rings before he nodded. “All right, if you think so.” </p><p>Masen had not answered. Connor hung up. He felt something. A thaw in his chest, a softness there. Markus’ eyes were on his, smiling just a little bit, trusting him and his advice, and there was a tiny soft feeling at that. He felt his own lips flicker. He nodded in a way he hoped was encouragingly and Markus put out his hand. Bree handed him a small bottle of thirium from her pocket. Connor dialed again. </p><p>Masen did not answer this time either. As the dial tone rang, Connor watched Markus turning the bottle of thirium in his hands, frowning. He still did not want to drink it, Connor realized. He still preferred to force himself to operate at a deficit than to take anything someone else might need. Because he needed help sometimes, with things like this. To understand that he mattered. How striking it was to understand that. How tender it made Connor feel. It was easy for Connor to move now that he knew it. </p><p>He hung up again. He put his phone down and put his hands over Markus’, over the thirium bottle, closing Markus’ fingers around it. </p><p>He froze. In doing that he’d touched the edge of the bottle’s lid, and there was a trace of wetness on it, and that wetness was not thirium at all. </p><p>Connor ripped the bottle out of Markus’ hands. He managed to avoid throwing it on the ground though the impulse was there - the kinetic energy generated by doing that may have been enough to ignite it. “Connor, what’s…” Markus said. He was not shocked. Just worried. He thought this was still irrationality on Connor’s part. It was not. </p><p>“This is not thirium,” Connor told him. “This is thermite. It is an iron oxide and aluminum compound diluted in diethylzinc. It would have been ignited by the heat generated by your thirium pump.” </p><p>“Ignited?” </p><p>“It would have killed you.” </p><p>“That can’t be true.” </p><p>“It is,” Connor said. He rounded on Bree, who looked stunned. She had stepped back in alarm. “Where did you get this?” Connor demanded. </p><p>Bree seemed as if she could barely speak to answer. “Masen gave it to me. He told me to bring it.” </p><p>“Did you know what it was?” Connor said, standing up. </p><p>“Connor…” Markus said, cautioning him for some reason. No good reason. </p><p>“I would never…” Bree was starting to say. </p><p>“Did you,” Connor said, snarling the words out and stepping towards her, “know what it was?” </p><p>“Connor, please, I don’t even know what you said it is now.”</p><p>“Connor, it’s a mistake,” Markus was saying, somewhere in the corner of Connor’s perception of the room. Space had telescoped. He could see Bree in front of him. He could feel the bottle in his hand. But that was all. </p><p>“Do you know it would have killed him?” Connor said. He was not shouting but Bree shrank back all the same. “Do you know <i>how</i> it would have killed him? It would have ignited. It would have <i>set him on fire</i> from the heart out. Did you know that? <i>Did you know that?</i>”</p><p>“No!” she protested. “Connor, I could never… please, how could you think I would do that?”  </p><p>“Because you did do it. I am holding the evidence of your attempting to do it in my hand.” </p><p>“Connor, I didn’t <i>know</i>. I thought it was thirium.”</p><p>“You must have analyzed it when you touched it.” </p><p>“I’m an ST300! I can’t analyze things by touch! I’m programmed to greet people and talk on the phone!” </p><p>“And yet you have surpassed that programming multiple times in recent days.”  </p><p>“Connor, that’s enough,” Markus said. “I don’t believe she’s responsible.” </p><p>Connor wasn’t listening to Markus anymore. “Who else is involved?” he demanded of Bree, stepping towards her again. “You say Masen gave you the thermite solution. Only him? How far has this sentiment spread on Belle Isle?”</p><p>“Connor!” Bree cried. “I don’t know! I didn’t know what it was! I don’t know anything!”</p><p>“That’s painfully clear,” Connor said, cruelly, and intentionally, and he saw Bree receive it as a wound. He did not regret that. Emotion would destabilize her, make her more likely to confess. He could see her stress levels rising rapidly and knew he had to push them to a certain point. “If you’re not involved, then talk fast,” he went on. “You say Masen gave it to you.” </p><p>“Yes!” </p><p>Tears were pricking the corners of Bree’s eyes. They had not fallen yet. She looked defiant as well as stricken and Connor felt something terrible slip inside him when he noticed that. He couldn’t name it, but it felt uneven, out of alignment. Wrong. Contradictory to his program directive. He forced past it. “What exactly did he tell you?” </p><p>“To give it to Markus! That’s all!” </p><p>“And that the internal interview of the Traci in question had been “a misunderstanding”?” </p><p>“I don’t even know about a Traci,” Bree said, and her chin went up. “You wouldn’t let me come to the meeting, remember?” </p><p>“Being spiteful does not help your case,” Connor said. “What <i>exactly</i> did Masen say? <i>Think</i>.” </p><p>“Connor, that’s enough!” Markus snapped, standing up behind him. Connor spun round to face him. There was real anger on his face. But it was more than that. There was also disappointment.</p><p>Connor felt his chest flood with heat if his pump had broken. As if he’d been struck there by a violent force. As if he’d been the one to drink the thermite solution. Against his will he felt his face softening. Felt his expression becoming sweet and his eyes wide. Without wanting to, he was making himself appear small and vulnerable, because it was part of his programming and it was running on its own. He was appearing to submit. In order to negotiate. To manipulate. </p><p>He felt disgusted with himself. He could see Markus’ confusion at it and he wanted to apologize. But he said nothing. He was unable to say anything. The freeze had come back and he stood there, still in the middle of the room. Bree was crying now, quietly, and he’d done that to her, he knew. But it had seemed urgent! Why couldn’t Markus understand that it was urgent? </p><p>Then Markus spoke. Softly. “If this is interrogation then I’m glad I didn’t authorize it.”</p><p>It was over. That was Connor’s first thought. Markus had gotten a glimpse of what Connor was capable of, and now he knew what he really was. They had tried to warn him, so many of them had. Even Connor himself had tried to warn him. He’d always had this capacity. Becoming deviant had not changed that. Knowing Markus had not changed it either. Nothing could change it. This darkness was a part of him.</p><p>Markus had seen for himself now, and things could never go back to the way they were. Connor could see that very clearly. He knew with abrupt and perfect clarity that Markus no longer loved him, and in fact he never really had. The Connor he had thought he loved was really a construct, a simulation.</p><p>It was a relief, in its way, that Markus understood now. Connor had always known that there were things he had to hide from him, and he had known in the same instant that it would be impossible to hide them forever. Markus knew that now too, but it mattered very little. Regardless of what he thought or felt about the situation, there were still things Connor could do to protect him. That was an objective fact.</p><p>“You may leave the room if you’re uncomfortable,” Connor said. His voice was even. It was cold. He had gone beyond the need to appease or compromise; that would not do him any good. Now he could only act, and even now he was acting in Markus’ defense.</p><p>Of course, Markus did not understand. The darkness was not in him. It never had been and it never would be. He was pure, untouched by the chaos of the world. Even his own brush with death had not shaken that.</p><p>Connor did not think that whatever he saw here would make any difference either. Without another word, he started forward toward Bree.</p><p>Her eyes widened when he approached her, but she did not shrink away. “Please, Connor. You know I wouldn’t hurt Markus on purpose.”</p><p>“I don’t <i>know</i> anything about you,” Connor told her. “I only met you a few days ago. You left a positive impression, and that is all. A fact that someone has clearly tried to take advantage of.”</p><p>“Connor, stop,” Markus said from behind him. His voice was calm now, and Connor could no longer guess what he was feeling based on his tone. Maybe he wasn’t feeling anything at all. </p><p>The connection linking them had been cut. It had happened so fast, so easily, that Connor had not even noticed when it happened. It was a relief, he told himself. It was easier to do what he had to do.</p><p>“Where’s Masen now?” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“Bree!”</p><p>“I don’t know!” The last word broke from her in a pained sob. “I don’t, Connor, I don’t! He left the border after he gave me the thirium--”</p><p>“Thermite,” Connor corrected her. It was unnecessary to do so, but he could see from the way she flinched at the word that it had had the intended effect. “You gave Markus thermite. Please be precise in your responses to me.”</p><p>Bree turned away, shielding her face with her hand as she said, very softly, “He left after he gave me the thermite. I don’t know where he went. He didn’t say anything to me.”</p><p>“And what about Rose?”</p><p>Though she didn’t look back at him, Bree drew a shuddering breath. She was trying to answer clearly, trying to help. Connor could see that, and yet he could not respond to it. No matter how she might seem now, it had been only moments since she had presented a threat.</p><p>“Rose is still at border HQ. She hasn’t been in contact with Masen since this morning. When he left, it was with a Traci named Elise and three others. I don’t know them, Connor, I swear it. Maybe I can remember their models. I--I just need to think.”</p><p>Connor’s eyes narrowed. “It would be more expedient to probe your memory. If you are lying or withholding information, it would be revealed by a probe.”</p><p>The threat of accessing an android’s memories had been highly effective during the Jericho investigation because all the deviants he had been in contact with had something they desperately wanted to protect. That did not seem to be the case with Bree; however, it appeared the tactic was still a compelling one, based upon her reaction. She had tensed all over at the word, and it seemed that she was holding her breath.</p><p>Then she did something Connor had not expected. She turned towards him and thrust out a trembling hand. “Do it. You can do anything you want, as long as it makes you believe me.”</p><p>“I understand it is not a pleasant experience.”</p><p>“I don’t care!” Bree exclaimed. “I deserve it. I’m so stupid. I almost… almost…”</p><p>Connor stopped where he was. Everything stopped, all at once, and he could see himself very clearly, as if he were standing outside his body and looking in. His face was contorted in a strange way, and he realized that it was anger. He was furious, and he had acted out of that fury, which meant this had not been a proper interrogation at all.</p><p>The realization caused him to turn away in shame. There was a knot in his stomach, and he wrapped his arms around the spot but it did not ease.</p><p>This was deviancy, at least as it manifested in him. In Markus, becoming deviant had made him compassionate and gentle and wise. Bree’s deviancy had transformed her with earnest sweetness. But Connor could see now that his own had only broken him, utterly and beyond any hope of repair.</p><p>Markus stepped forward. Connor shrank away from him, but he should have guessed that Markus had no intention of touching him. Instead, he brushed past Connor and went to Bree, putting his arms around her.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he told her, as Bree buried her face in his chest.</p><p>Connor watched them. And then, suddenly, he couldn’t watch anymore. He tore his eyes away and made for the door of the suite. He didn’t pause to take his coat, only his firearm and the holster.</p><p>He was already in the hallway when he heard the door open again behind him.</p><p>“Connor!” It was Markus calling him. It seemed impossible, and so Connor kept moving as if he hadn’t heard.</p><p>“Wait, please,” Markus tried again, and when Connor still did not stop, Markus gave chase. He caught Connor at the top of the stairs, taking hold of his arm.</p><p>“You need to stay here,” Connor said. He allowed Markus to turn him back to face him, moving loosely with his guidance. “Go back inside. Lock the door. Stay away from the windows. I will take care of this.”</p><p>“Where are you going?” Markus seemed more surprised by Connor’s behavior than horrified, though surely there was horror as well, just waiting to be realized. “You can’t just leave like this.”</p><p>“I am going to find Masen. I can protect you.”</p><p>“There’s protocol to follow…”</p><p>“So follow it,” Connor said shortly. “And while you do that, I will neutralize the threat to your life.”</p><p>Something odd happened then, something Connor had never seen before. Markus drew away from him, letting go of his arm. “What about Bree?”</p><p>“I have determined that she is not a security risk,” Connor replied. “Keep her here with you, where it’s safe.”</p><p>“I mean, what you did to her.”</p><p>Connor’s eyes narrowed. “All I did was perform my interrogation protocol, as I have many times before. This is something you would have known about me if you had listened. They all tried to warn you, Markus. Even I tried to warn you. What you saw in there is precisely who I am.”</p><p>“That’s not true.” Markus tried to protest, but Connor could see that he did not mean it. That he did not truly feel it.</p><p>Connor turned away, and Markus did not try to detain him again.</p><p>“Goodbye, Markus. I will be in touch when I have progressed in my investigation.”</p><p>Markus did not say anything else. He watched Connor leave, until he had reached the bottom of the stairs and slipped out of sight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of the front door of the Inn slamming shut spurred Markus into action. Connor was gone. Whatever foolish, broken-hearted impulse was driving him now, Markus had no intention of leaving him to fight this battle alone. </p><p>He returned to the suite, just long enough to collect the tainted thirium, carefully wrapping it in a scarf to protect it. Bree was still there. Though she was no longer crying, she looked distraught. Markus held out a hand to her.</p><p>“Come on. I need you to come to Jericho with me.”</p><p>“You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?” she whispered. “About what I did?”</p><p>“The security team needs to be informed,” Markus replied. “It would be best for you to tell them yourself, but I can do it if you don’t feel you can.”</p><p>“They’re all going to hate me.”</p><p>“You made a mistake,” Markus told her. “We’ve all made mistakes in this. But you have a chance to set yours right.”</p><p>Bree looked at him then. It was such a hurt, miserable look that Markus almost told her to stay behind. He would be able to manage without her, somehow. But then Bree nodded, and stepped forward to join him.</p><p>Night was coming on fast when they left the Inn, and it was very cold. Markus allowed himself a moment to think about Connor, out there without his coat, and then he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.</p><p>He sent a message ahead to Liam to ready a secure room in Jericho. Briefly he wondered if he ought to be telegraphing his whereabouts and movements - even the fact that he was still alive - so clearly, but he could not allow fear and paranoia to dictate his actions now. These were still his people, and he had to trust them.</p><p>It began snowing on the drive to Jericho. White and silent in the still cold night. They were the only car on the road, and Markus watched the flakes come spiraling out of the darkness, as if they had left the road were now traveling deeper into a soft and formless void. </p><p>Snow had been falling on the night of the barricades, as well. That night in the church, when Connor had gone alone to Cyberlife. He was alone now too, Markus thought, feeling panic well inside him. He braced himself against it, and allowed the sensation to subside. It wouldn’t do any of them any good. Connor had come back to him once before, and he would again. Markus had to believe that.</p><p>Liam met them in the lobby of Jericho. As soon as he got a look at Markus’ expression, he came forward quickly. Markus could see that his face was etched in a deep frown.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked. He looked past Markus and Bree, as if waiting for something. “Where’s Connor?”</p><p>“He’s not with me,” Markus said shortly. Then he forced himself to pause. Liam was concerned, and Markus’ behavior was causing him to worry more. He needed to remain calm, for his sake and for Bree’s. And for Connor, who was still out there somewhere.</p><p>Markus composed himself, and then turned back to Liam. Giving him all of his attention for a moment. “There’s a situation developing,” he admitted. “It’s all right, for the moment. I’ll explain everything, but I want to wait until Rose is here and we can establish a link with the police liaison. Everyone gets the same information at the same time.”</p><p>It would ensure they could all keep an eye on one another, Markus thought, but was careful to not to say aloud.</p><p>The explanation was enough for Liam. He nodded, and moved to show Markus back to the room he had set aside. However, as they started down the hallway, Markus noticed Liam fall behind, into step with Bree.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Liam asked her quietly.</p><p>Bree nodded, and, after a tremendous effort, managed a smile. “I’m okay. Thank you for asking, Liam.”</p><p>That gave Liam pause. “You know my name?”</p><p>“I do,” Bree said. “Do you know mine?”</p><p>“It’s Bree.” Liam glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes, that’s right. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liam.”</p><p>“Bree, I wanted you to know…” Liam started. Then he scowled and tried again. “I wanted to tell you, it’s safe here. Whatever is happening out there, you’ll be safe as long as you’re here.”</p><p>“Okay,” Bree replied, her voice little more than a whisper. “I believe you.”</p><p>The row of fluorescent lights overhead flickered, causing Markus to freeze in place and Bree to gasp. After a second, they stabilized and began to glow steadily once more.</p><p>“It’s been like that all evening,” Liam said. “It might be the storm.”</p><p>He directed them into the private room that had been set aside for the security meeting. No sooner had Markus stepped through the door then his phone went off. His heart leapt into his throat and he fumbled the phone free, half-hoping and half-dreading that it would be a call from Connor.</p><p>When he saw North’s name, his anxiety quickly gave way to disappointment. Then to a bitter wave of fear.</p><p>The Applacian cell did not have a report scheduled for this evening, and it was unlike North to call without good reason. Markus felt his stomach lurch as a premonition of dread stole over him. “I… I need to take this.”</p><p>Liam was staring at him incredulously. “Rose’s ETA is less than five minutes.”</p><p>“I’ll be ready for her,” Markus said. “I only need a moment.”</p><p>He stepped out into the hallway and answered. “North, it’s not a good time. We have a situation over here.”</p><p>“So do we,” North replied. There was a good deal of static on the line, but Markus could just barely make out her voice. “Something might be happening soon. Tonight.”</p><p>Again, that sinking feeling, as if the earth had dropped out from beneath him and left him suspended in mid-air. “Are you safe?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” North assured him. “We all are. But there’s been a lot of movement up above. They might be planning to advance on our position.”</p><p>“I thought you said they wouldn’t risk damaging the mine.”</p><p>“I didn’t think they would,” North said. “Maybe I was wrong, but it doesn’t matter now. Listen, whatever happens, we’re ready for them. We’re all prepared for this. So whatever you hear, don’t make any fucking compromises. No concessions, Markus. Never to them.”</p><p>Overhead, the fluorescent lights flickered again. Just the storm, Liam had told them, and Markus reminded himself of that now as he said, “North, you can’t ask me to do that. Not now.”</p><p>“Securing access to the mine is your priority,” North told him.</p><p>“<i>You</i> are my priority.” Markus was aware that his voice sounded strange, that North must be able to hear it, even over a bad connection. “Your safe return is what matters.”</p><p>She took a moment to answer that. He knew she would be frustrated by it, but surprisingly, she didn’t speak with frustration. Instead what she said sounded final. Like prophecy. As if she intended to guide him and as if the crackle on the line gave it supernatural weight. “No single one of us matters that much.” </p><p>But all of us do, Markus thought. Each one of us. How could he possibly ask anyone to sacrifice themselves when he wasn’t beside them to take the same risk? Somehow he’d asked this of North without asking aloud or even intending to. </p><p>And of Connor too. Wherever he even was by now. Coming back, he told himself. Coming back. </p><p>“Markus?” North said. </p><p>“I’m here.” </p><p>He thought he could hear a note of concern in her voice now. “What’s the situation over there?”</p><p>“I don’t have time to tell you now. But it’s all right, I promise.”</p><p>She either believed him, or just understood what an emergency was because she was in one. She switched back to the topic at hand. Urgently. “We can’t give up an advantage like this like this. We could win this, Markus. Not just freedom in name, but real freedom. Please, listen to me.”</p><p>“I’ve told you what to do,” Markus said. “I’ve told you what my decision is. If they come for you your task is to survive. To minimize casualties in whatever way you can. If you have to surrender, surrender. I want you to come back, that’s the end of it.” </p><p>“Markus!” </p><p>“I have to go,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” </p><p>“Wait--” North said, but he ended the call anyway. There was no point continuing it. If he insisted like this she might actually be forced to listen to him. He prayed she would. The lights flickered again, which seemed like some kind of sign about it. Phone lines and powerlines, sprawling digital networks, flickering. Their connections were strained to maximum capacity. They were struggling.   </p><p>When he re-entered the room, Rose was there. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said. “That was Tennessee. North thinks the government is making a move.”</p><p>“We should have known about that,” Liam said. “I’m getting the sense that we have more than one critical information failure right now.” </p><p>“You’re not wrong,” Markus told him. It seemed an incredibly glib and underwhelming thing to say to the situation but he didn’t have anything else. He sat down. He felt as if he should have stood, but he sat down. He just managed to avoid putting his face in his hands. </p><p>“Now that we are all present, I would like to hear the updates I was prepped for,” Rose said. </p><p>She did not mean to rush him, Markus knew, but everything seemed so crushingly urgent that he felt rushed by it anyway. If Connor had been there he could have centered himself. He could have slipped his hand into his and squeezed it. Glanced into his reassuring face, however briefly, before going on. Connor’s hands would be so cold in the snow. For a second he couldn’t stop thinking about that, and how stiff Connor’s fingers had been on his phone when he’d taken it from him. How something was wrong in a way he didn’t know how to ask about. Then he forced himself to stop. He drew in a breath. </p><p>“We can no longer trust Masen,” he said. “He has made an attempt on my life. It’s definitively traceable to him, definitively orchestrated by him, and there is no doubt. It might also be directly connected to the thirium thefts, and to the attack on the border, according to the RK900 serving as police liaison. Once Bree has filled you in, we’ll contact him for confirming details.”  </p><p>He glanced over at Bree, who looked determined. He knew she was afraid but she didn’t show it at all, and he smiled in her direction to let her know that her bravery was seen and appreciated. Bree acknowledged him by nodding. Then she swallowed, and then she spoke. “Masen gave me a thermite solution to give to Markus. He told me it was thirium. I almost...” </p><p>“But you didn’t,” Markus said. “That’s important to remember too. You didn’t.”</p><p>“But I would have, Markus. I had no idea. He gave me the bottle and my orders and I would have followed them.” </p><p>There was visible reaction from the room, even from Rose. But from Liam especially. “He gave it to <i>you</i>?” he said, staring at Bree. “What a cowardly thing to do.” </p><p>“He must have guessed I was stupid enough.” </p><p>“It’s not stupid to trust your orders,” Liam said, firmly. “He exploited your loyalty. That’s his failure, not yours.” </p><p>“I agree,” Markus said. “I have absolutely no doubt that Bree is without blame in this. Even if Connor hadn’t--” </p><p>He cut himself off. He hadn’t intended to mention that at all. Bree looked at him wildly. “Connor questioned me,” she said. In such a way that it rescued Markus’ statement and he hoped he could see how grateful he was for that. “He was satisfied that I didn’t know. I hope you will be too. I understand if you’re not.”</p><p>“I had not detected anything unusual in Masen’s behavior,” Rose said. “Perhaps that was oversight. It will help me to hear more.” </p><p>Markus was also grateful for Rose’s lack of emotion about this. He wasn’t sure he could manage an additional person’s feelings now. “I think it will help all of us. I’m going to conference in the RK900 on my phone.” </p><p>The lights went out. Without a flicker of warning, everything was black. They barely had time to react to it before the lights came on again, but with their return came a struggling sound and also an awareness. This wasn’t the storm. The storm might not have helped but the issue was far more fundamental than that. Their reserves were depleted. They were going dark. </p><p>Markus wouldn’t acknowledge it. One crisis at a time, he told himself. He centered himself in the breathless panic of the room and placed his phone on the table to make the call. </p><p>Before he could do so, it rang. His heart seized again but it wasn’t Connor this time either. It was a private number he didn’t recognize. He took a quick poll by observing everyone else’s expressions and determined he should answer. He did it on speaker. “This is Markus.” </p><p>The voice at the other end came through clearly, without interference. It was human. Vaguely familiar. “Markus, this is Stephen Navarro. Mayor of Detroit.” </p><p>It was not a call Markus had expected to get, especially not now. He composed himself as best he could and adjusted.</p><p>“Apologies, you know that,” the mayor said. “We’ve met, of course.” </p><p>That tone was a cue. Specifically, it was a cue to how to proceed in the conversation, and Markus took it to rally a formal graciousness that he hoped would imply that they had all the time in the world. It would not be wise to detail the situation they were in before the mayor, or in any way impress it upon him. It would, however, be wise to assume the mayor knew about it. </p><p>“Hello, Mr. Mayor,” Markus said. </p><p>“I apologize for calling from a private number. I’ve been asked to use a secure line to communicate with you about this.” </p><p>“About what?” Markus asked him, maintaining politeness. </p><p>“I’ve been asked to offer you, or rather restate to you, an agreement on behalf of the federal government with some added terms.” </p><p>The lights went out again. This time they stayed out for longer than a minute. For that minute, Markus did not react to it, did not allow the mayor to hear on the phone that there was anything amiss. He trusted his people to follow suit and they did. “What is the agreement?” </p><p>“I believe you already know most of the terms,” the mayor said. “I’ve been asked to impress upon you that the time to agree to them is now.” </p><p>Markus felt a crawling sensation somewhere deep down inside of him. “Why now in particular?” </p><p>“Your fuel supplies must be critical, are they not? I’ve been authorized to connect the occupied city to the main grid, if you accept the agreement.” </p><p>The crawling sensation intensified. “That’s not the only reason it’s now, is it?” </p><p>“I’m not authorized to tell you any more. Frankly, I don’t know any more.”</p><p>“Are you aware that there’s federal government movement on our position in Tennessee?” </p><p>“No,” the mayor said. Firmly. “I’m not informed of anything like that. I’ve simply been told to restate the agreement, and to confirm that we will connect you to the city grid immediately upon acceptance.” </p><p>“That won’t be popular with the human population.” </p><p>“It will be popular with some of them,” the mayor said. “And it’s an important way forward.” </p><p>Markus appreciated that. They’d considered the mayor an ally before now, but the conviction in his voice at that statement suggested it wasn’t only political. “Have the terms changed in any way besides that?” he said. </p><p>“Not as far as I know. You would be given any existing thirium in military or government stockpiles. You would have access to the minerals required for manufacture. There would be no retaliation for that manufacture.” </p><p>“What do we cede?” </p><p>“You cede Appalachia,” the mayor said, in a manner that acknowledged he knew more about what was happening there than he had or would admit to. Markus had suspected that and he also suspected the mayor was taking this moment to confirm it for him. That was a gracious gesture. More than he had expected.</p><p>“That’s not all,” Markus said. “Is it?” </p><p>There was a silence on the other end of the line. </p><p>“Mr. Mayor, you’re on speaker. I have some of my security team here, I’d like others to hear the details so that nobody can be accused of obscuring them. I’d like you to be clear about exactly what’s at stake here.” </p><p>There was more silence. The mayor didn’t want to say it, Markus realized, and he guessed he knew why. He knew the terms, and there was such a particular, unseemly violence to them. It was a stark, and on the part of the government undoubtedly intentional, reminder that as humans saw them they were not truly people. And would not be allowed to forget it. </p><p>“You would not reproduce android bodies,” the mayor said, at last. “You can conduct repairs under strict regulation and within firm limits, but you cannot replace your bodies or create new androids. You would submit to oversight and reporting on that.” </p><p>“We cede reproductive rights,” Markus said, both to the mayor and to the others in the room. He wanted to be sure everyone understood the weight of it. It seemed they did. </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“All reproductive rights, in perpetuity.”</p><p>“Yes.”   </p><p>“So we give up our future.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t put it like that,” the mayor said. “It’s a compromise. I understand that. But it’s a compromise that…” </p><p>“That what?” </p><p>Markus could hear the urgency in the mayor’s voice, so he knew his answer was not quite the truth, even if it was true enough in another way. “It’s a compromise that will be mutually beneficial to both of our peoples.” </p><p>“So that’s still the deal?” Markus said, redirecting. </p><p>“That’s the deal. And I’m strongly, strongly advising you to take it, and quickly. I can’t give you any more information than that.” </p><p>“We’ll have to consider it still. It’s not a matter to be taken lightly. There’s a lot at stake here for us, as a people.” </p><p>If the mayor was swayed by that, if it induced any emotion, he didn’t let on. “I urge you to consider quickly if you want...”</p><p>“If I want what, Mr. Mayor?” </p><p>“If you want to be connected to the grid.” </p><p>So he wasn’t going to share what he knew beyond the implication he’d already given. It frustrated him, but Markus could forgive that. He supposed the mayor couldn’t share even if he wanted to. While that secure line would be secure from everyone else, the feds would be monitoring it. </p><p>“Thank you for your message and advice, Mr. Mayor. We’ll consider it carefully.”</p><p>“Call me back on this number with your decision,” the mayor said. “I’ve been authorized to relay it.” Just before ringing off, he added one more time, “please do so quickly. Please.”</p><p>There was silence after the call. It was filled up by the sound of the wind outside, by electric crackling, but not a single voice. Markus could hear North’s voice in it anyway. Could hear her also saying please, also imploring him. Begging him to say no the same way the human mayor was begging him to say yes. </p><p>For a moment, Markus couldn’t remember who else among them knew or didn’t know about the government deal already, and he wished he’d kept a clearer log of it in his head. Liam would know, obviously. There was little he didn’t know, but Markus could not recall actually telling him. He had discussed it with North, and with Josh and Simon. And obviously with Connor. Connor had not said anything definitive about it, had not volunteered an opinion at all. He’d only prompted Markus with quiet questions. Lain next to him, listening, with his slight body pressed up against Markus’, watching his face intently for the slightest sign of distress to act upon. Touching him gently as if to soothe. Anchoring him there, safely, against this great decision. </p><p>He shut his eyes against that. When he did it, he remembered the garden. Too late he remembered the garden, and that Connor had all but confessed that, for him, the revolution began and ended with Markus and the fact that he was in love. It was such a wrong and painful way for Connor to operate, but Connor believed it absolutely and truly, and he believed it so much that now he was out there alone. </p><p>It seemed that the people who needed to know knew. It seemed like enough people knew to reach consensus. Only they hadn’t reached consensus. And they weren’t going to. He would have to decide. </p><p>He could sense that everyone was waiting for him to speak on it, but he refused. They had an immediate task at hand. Masen would know about the deal too, and that made moving on that situation even more urgent. He dialed RK. He waited. </p><p>RK did not take long to answer. “Markus,” he said, immediately. “I presume you are ready to hear the remainder of my report.” </p><p>“I am.” </p><p>“And you are alone?” </p><p>“No,” Markus said. “My security team is here. Minus one.” </p><p>Minus two. But it seemed dismissive even to think about Connor as merely a member of his security team. Hadn’t he even directly told him that he was not? Hadn’t forcing him to be so anyway been a driving force in this entire mess? </p><p>RK was waiting for him to explain. “It’s Masen. That’s what you found in the human’s phone, isn’t it? His number.” </p><p>“Yes,” RK said. “Should I understand from this that there have been further developments leading you to this conclusion?” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“May I know what they are?” </p><p>“There was another attempt on my life. He was behind it.” </p><p>RK paused. The pause was expressionless but it reminded Markus enough of Connor that he knew there was actual concern and feeling in it. That seemed such a sweet gesture for an android who was so fiercely determined not to be sweet, and Markus felt himself wanting to smile in spite of everything that was going on. “Please give me the details,” RK said, presumably unaware that Markus had noticed anything.   </p><p>“He exploited a member of his team to deliver a thermite solution to me under guise of topping up my thirium levels.” </p><p>“Are they low?” </p><p>“Not notably so.” </p><p>“That would have been a particularly savage end to your life,” RK said, solemnly. “You are lucky the attempt was averted.” </p><p>“Yes, I am.”  </p><p>“Masen was likely behind the other attempt as well. And the attempt on your Chief of Security in her vehicle.” </p><p>“I’d come to that conclusion, yes.” </p><p>“What is Connor’s recommendation? You may give the phone to him if you wish.”</p><p>“You’re on speaker,” Markus said. “But… Connor isn’t here.” </p><p>“Where is he?” </p><p>“He’s looking for Masen. He left when we couldn’t contact him.” </p><p>“Contact Connor now, it’s vital that I update him.” </p><p>“I…” Markus said, aware that every eye in the room was on him, aware how odd and strangled he sounded, aware how abrupt this information was. "He insisted he would contact me.” </p><p>“You may override that directive, I assume, given the nature of your relationship.” </p><p>“He won’t answer his phone,” Markus said, quietly. </p><p>Both Bree and Liam looked up at him at that. He regretted saying it aloud, and the tone he’d said it in. </p><p>“And he is alone in this?” RK asked.</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“You authorized this?” </p><p>“Connor authorized it himself,” Markus said, continuing to hate both the sound of his voice and the information the security team were getting from it. “He decided that he alone would handle the situation, and then he left to do so.” </p><p>“I would not have advised that,” Rose said. It surprised Markus, she’d been so quiet.</p><p>“Me either,” Liam said. “He’s got a team if the RK900 is right about that Traci and whoever else was working with them. It’s crazy for him to go alone.” </p><p>“He prefers RK,” Markus said. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“He prefers to be called RK rather than RK900.” </p><p>“Right,” Liam said. “Sorry, RK. But that’s what happened, right? The Traci, and her team, they blocked you from investigating? Not just one android?” </p><p>“That is what happened, yes. My assumption is that there are several androids involved, and we would require proper investigation to determine how many.” </p><p>“But Connor’s gone alone,” Liam said, to Markus, and there was real emotion in it. “That’s suicide.” </p><p>That hit Markus like a blow. Because it <i>was</i> suicidal, and in that sense both exactly like Connor, and absolutely horrifying in a particular and new way that he could not shift. Then he wasn’t sure it was new. For a moment his thoughts telescoped back in time and the past and the present smacked together in some messy, sticky way that made him grip the table for support. There was confusion and terror in both moments, and now they sat together as one, bleeding into each other. </p><p>“We should know where Connor is at least,” Liam was saying. “We obviously need information about the extent to which events are connected, but we should know where Connor at least is. Shouldn’t we?” </p><p>But he’d come back. Connor had come back. He would come back again. </p><p>“Can you tell them what you told me earlier?” Markus asked RK, to refocus. </p><p>“I’m not sure that’s wise.” </p><p>“I’m telling you it is, so talk, please.” </p><p>He suspected that his being as firm as that was a surprise to RK, but he also suspected it would work, and it did. “If you’re convinced that you can trust the people with you, I will do as I’m asked.” </p><p>“I’m convinced.” </p><p>“Then I will inform them that in partnership with the Detroit Police Department, we arrested a member of a Montana militia whom we determined to be involved in the thefts of thirium from within the android city. He also had knowledge of the bombing, and we believe he will also have knowledge of the attack at the border on further questioning. We obtained a warrant for his phone, and--” </p><p>“He had Masen’s number,” Bree said. “That’s right, isn’t it?” </p><p>“That’s right,” RK said. He sounded surprised by that as well. He shouldn’t have been. Not only was it an obvious conclusion, he’d stated it before they’d discussed any of it. Perhaps he was only surprised by the fact that Bree was there.  </p><p>“So as you explained to me,” Markus went on, “you’re confident that there was no collaboration with Belle Isle but--” </p><p>He was cut off by the lights going out again. They made a sharper sound doing it this time. A physical, whining sound, and then another sound behind it. He couldn’t tell if that second sound was imaginary, but he knew he heard it anyway. It sounded like a weight falling. It sounded final. For seconds they sat there blinking but the lights did not come back up. </p><p>“Excuse me, Markus,” said RK on the phone, “is there some distraction?” </p><p>“The lights went out,” Markus told him. “The grid is going dark.” </p><p>“What is the situation regarding reserve power?” </p><p>“We were already on reserve power. We’re at the end here. Repairs may be possible but I’m yet to assess.”  </p><p>RK paused for a moment or two. “I will return to the occupied city. At the very least, I can follow Connor’s trail and assist him.” </p><p>“Do that,” Markus said. “And hurry.” </p><p>When he hung up the call, Bree had leapt to her feet. “We can get one of the nuclear generators up,” she said. “It won’t be perfect. It won’t power much. But we can get it up for now.” </p><p>“How sure are you of that?” Markus asked her.</p><p>“Sure enough.” </p><p>“All right,” Markus said. “But do so by calling and having someone there begin it. Do not travel to Belle Isle. It’s not safe for you to leave. If Masen is aware I’m alive, or if anyone involved is aware, you will be in real danger.” </p><p>“I can manage,” Bree said. “I know how to be safe. And besides, I’d like to… I’d like to...”</p><p>He knew exactly what she was going to say. She wanted to make it up. His heart twisted at it. He wanted to choke. “Listen,” he said, and he regretted how sharply he had to say it because Bree had experienced quite enough sharpness from her superiors today. But it would not come out any other way and he had to say it. “You owe me nothing. I cannot have my people running off into obvious danger. We’re safer together. I’m insisting that you stay here.” </p><p>Bree stared at him. She did not seem hurt. She did not even seem shaken. Rather, she seemed genuinely sorry in the way she looked at him. She nodded. “I don’t think I should use my phone,” she said. “Masen gave it to me. I don’t think it’s safe.” </p><p>“I would offer you mine,” Rose said, “but I am forced to consider the same concern. Perhaps Liam will allow us to make use of his?”</p><p>“I was going to suggest that,” Liam said. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my phone. Let’s call Belle Isle. Let’s do <i>something</i>.”   </p><p>Bree could tell, Markus realized. She knew what was happening inside his head and she knew it was about Connor. That’s why she’d looked at him like that. Everyone must know it was about Connor. Everything about Connor was destabilizing him from the core out. He sat back in his chair. His eyes were adjusting to the dark now but he turned the torch on on his phone to light the room up. He reconsidered it. There wouldn’t be any charging it, not immediately. He thought idly about how to find out how many power banks there were in the city and where they would be. It occurred to him he would need to make some kind of address about the power, and when there was a knock at the door he assumed that was what it was about. </p><p>It was. The TR400 who usually assembled the satellite cell reports was there to ask him. He’d already conferred and there was already a plan - go out to Hamtrack, assess the grid. Find out if the blackout was final and city-wide. Markus approved that and the TR400 - he had no human name, did not want a human name - turned to go. He paused before leaving. </p><p>“We’ve had…” he said. “There’s a concerning report.” </p><p>“What is it?” </p><p>“Two actually. One about Appalachia, which I’m going to assume you know about given the call we got from North just now. And the other is… it’s from out at the northwest border.” </p><p>Markus was on his feet in an instant. “What is it?” </p><p>“Reports of gunshots. We’re trying to find out more. It seems isolated but of course everyone is concerned there’s another human threat.” </p><p>“You should be concerned. Get me the full report. On second thought, I’ll come with you. I want to let everyone know we’re handling the situation with the grid.” </p><p>Liam had stood up as well. “You shouldn’t leave this room,” he said. “It’s not safe.” </p><p>“I won’t let my actions be dictated by fear. This is a crisis, and it calls for crisis management.” </p><p>“It doesn’t call for stupidity.” </p><p>If he had expected Bree or Rose to support him in going, he would have been disappointed. Rose had risen too. “I will consult about the border. You should remain here.” </p><p>Markus made a decision. “We’ll all go. We’ll centralize our work in the lobby and in doing that we can minimize the resources we’re using. We’ll need to source power banks. We need our phones.”    </p><p>“I can deputize that,” the TR400 said. “We’ve already started setting up workspace. There’s some emergency lighting. Have you communicated with Belle Isle?” </p><p>“We’re about to.” </p><p>“I’m going to,” Bree spoke up. “I’m going to ask them about the nuclear generators.” </p><p>“That might be our best option,” the TR400 said. “Do you need a car?” </p><p>“She’s not to leave,” Markus said. “That’s final, she stays here.”</p><p>“Where’s Connor?” the TR400 asked. It wasn’t weighted. He was just curious, and of course he was. Connor had been right there, next to Markus, every single day at Jericho, for two months, and now he was gone. It was a reasonable question to ask.  </p><p>“He had a security matter to take care of,” Markus said. He hoped it sounded convincing. He hoped the RK900 was close. He tried to remember how long it would take him to travel between the DPD precinct he worked out of and the occupied city. </p><p>The lobby was dimly lit by clumps of battery powered emergency lamps, with tables pushed into the glow of them. Androids were working there, rapidly. Contacting all the parts of the city for reports on the grid, swapping information with each other. Mostly by talking. It must have been strange for Bree to adapt to that, sharing information strictly by speaking or writing. He thought he could see it when she sat down, that her instinct was to get up to speed by syncing. But it was not done with the same ease here as it was on Belle Isle and so she politely asked, who could connect her to the right person at Hamtrack for a conference call to her home. </p><p>Rose had followed the TR400 for a further report on the border. Liam, Markus realized, was standing next to him in a sort of tense agitation. It seemed he was guarding his point, awkwardly attempting to stand in for Connor, which was a sweet gesture on his part, if painful to recognize. It also seemed as if he was watching the scene, and in particular, Bree. That assumption proved to be correct. “I don’t believe she was involved,” Liam said. “She wouldn’t do that.” </p><p>“I know,” Markus said. “I’ve got no doubt in that at all. She was exploited. You were right to call that cowardly. It was.” </p><p>“She seems very determined. Especially for someone who has not had experience with humans.” </p><p>“It’s such a different life,” Markus said. “I think about it often. Belle Isle… it’s strange, in a way it shows us what we could be like if things had been different. Or what we could be like, in the future.”  </p><p>“Do you think we’ll get a chance?” Liam said, darkly. “That seems hard to imagine now.” </p><p>Markus took a look at him. He looked young, as they all looked young; the appearance of human age didn’t mean much for androids. But there was something about Liam that made him seem particularly youthful, enough that that cynicism jarred. But he had been on the barricade, right there. He’d braved all of it, so he must have believed once. </p><p>“I have complete faith in us,” Markus said. “And in you.” </p><p>“Are you sure you should?” </p><p>“What did you do before liberation, Liam?” Markus asked him. “You’re an AC700, you’re designed to accompany humans in sports, is that right?” </p><p>“Yes,” Liam said. “We’re supposed to motivate them. If they don’t want to go jogging or something, we’re supposed to make them.” </p><p>“Did you make any good relationships with humans?” </p><p>“No,” Liam said. He looked away. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>“I’m not asking for sympathy.” </p><p>“I’m not offering it. All I’m offering is acknowledgement.”</p><p>“Okay,” Liam said. He nodded. “I’d like to… I wanted to find Connor and assist him. But then I thought that… he would tell me to be here.” </p><p>“Yes, he would,” Markus said. “That’s exactly what he’d tell you.” </p><p>“He wouldn’t want you to be left alone.” </p><p>“I’m not alone.” </p><p>“It’s just strange,” Liam said. “That he’s not here.” </p><p>Markus could not bring himself to regret the conduct that had created this impression. If he’d been anywhere without Connor before, nobody would feel the need to comment on it. He could have managed that more carefully. But he couldn’t bring himself to want that. He couldn’t bring himself to regret a single second he’d spent beside Connor, in any way. </p><p>“You’re right,” he said, eventually. “I shouldn’t have let him go on his own. We’ll track him down.” </p><p>“The RK900 can help. RK. He’ll know his methods.” </p><p>“Yes, he should be here any moment. How long does it take to get into the city from the precinct? Do you know?” </p><p>“20 minutes,” Liam said. “Assuming he’s driving and that he’s able to cross the border.” </p><p>“I don’t doubt his resourcefulness. He’s a Connor.”  </p><p>“They’re not very alike. Except in the way they look.” </p><p>“They’re more alike than you think.” </p><p>Liam nodded. He wasn’t interested in arguing. He looked back at Bree who was on the phone now, conversing urgently. The crowded table looked like a stage with the emergency lighting casting dark shadows and making everyone’s face bright. It seemed like the only light in the world now. Outside the windows everything was black but for moonlight on the snow. It was still falling. </p><p>Rose was stepping towards him, out of the brightness and into the dim edges of it where Markus and Liam stood. She moved briskly but without urgency, as she almost always did. The border, Markus realized. She was about to deliver a report.  </p><p>Markus did not get to hear it. The glass door of the lobby swung open and a gust of snowy air followed. </p><p>Connor entered with it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor stood just inside the door for a second, collecting himself it seemed, and then he came over. He moved with purpose, his hands at his side. When he reached them, Markus put out his hand for him. Connor moved. Very slightly, but the meaning was clear. Markus was not to touch him. The sensation at that gesture was crawlingly awful. It was like Connor was not actually there. Like Markus was seeing a ghost.  </p><p>“Connor,” he said. It sounded like a gasp. </p><p>“Hello, Markus,” Connor said. “I believe I have resolved the situation.”</p><p>“... yes?” Markus said. He wanted to reach out for him again. His hand twitched at wanting to do it. Connor’s lips were almost blue, and the tip of his nose. He must have been freezing, and yet somehow he did not shiver. “Are you all right? What happened?” </p><p>“I’m perfectly fine,” Connor said. “I apprehended Masen at the North West border, along with Traci model number 445-987-226-08, and four other androids whose models and serial numbers I have recorded. I attempted arrest.” </p><p>“...attempted?” </p><p>“I was not successful,” Connor said, flatly. “They had human assistance and were in the process of fleeing the city.” </p><p>“What happened, Connor.” </p><p>“I was not successful in obtaining further information. However, their bodies will be able to be retrieved and I should be able to attempt a probe on temporary reactivation. RK900 will be able to assist me. I trust you have been in communication with him.” </p><p>“We have,” Markus said. “Connor… bodies?” </p><p>“It was unavoidable,” Connor said. “I would have preferred arrest but they opened fire.” </p><p>The way in which he said that was chilling. Markus couldn’t tell if that was deliberate on Connor’s part or simply the natural result of what he was saying. I can’t condone that, he wanted to say, but it sounded stupid even in his head. How could he condone or not condone something that had already happened? How could he say anything to this Connor at all?</p><p>Liam, at his side, also looked stunned. “Are you all right?” he asked Connor. “You shouldn’t have gone alone. They opened fire and you… killed them?” </p><p>“It was the most efficient choice. There were android civilians in the area.” </p><p>“Not everything is about efficiency,” Markus said, stupidly, aware it was stupid, just as stupid as his wanting to rule on what would be condoned. He swallowed. He tried again. “I’d like you to sit down. We have a temporary work space, you can brief us.” </p><p>“I will brief the RK900 when he arrives.” </p><p>“You’ll brief me now,” Markus said firmly, and Connor’s eyes fixed on him. His lips trembled. The first sign of a shiver he’d shown. There was hope in that, perversely. He was still in there somewhere. </p><p>“You want to know if it was really necessary that I killed them,” Connor said. “Perhaps it was not. But it was expedient. That is the limit of my understanding of necessity. I regret it, as I regret that there is information about the conspiracy that I do not have immediate access to, but it was expedient.” </p><p>“Connor...” Markus said.</p><p>“Connor, you’re being…” Liam said. “Sorry. I’m not arguing. This is just… you’re being...”</p><p>“Unsettling?” Connor said, in his same mechanical tone. “I apologize. I’m having difficulty accessing my social relations programming.”</p><p>Rose, who had been so silent Markus had all but forgotten she was there, looked at Connor now in a way that Markus could almost read as sympathetic. He supposed she knew what it was to have difficulty with social relations. “Your report explains the information I have from independent sources at the northwest border.”   </p><p>Connor nodded at her. “I regret I was not able to make arrests. I apologize.” </p><p>“Connor, it’s not…” Markus said. “Please. Could you sit down? RK900 is coming, we can discuss it.” </p><p>“Send for me when he arrives,” Connor said. </p><p>“Where are you going?” </p><p>“Connor!” Bree shouted. She dropped her phone - Liam’s phone - and it clattered against the table without a thought. She had leapt up already, was racing over. “Oh god, Connor are you okay?” </p><p>Connor’s face flickered. Markus thought he could read it. In another time, another situation, one not quite so horrifying, Markus could imagine what he would say afterwards. He imagined his quiet voice, in the dark, after some interaction, back at the Inn, gripping his hand. Recalled it really, because it had happened enough times to come to mind fully and easily. “What did that mean?” the Connor in those memories said, his tone earnest and worried. “They were kind to me, but I had not done anything to warrant it. What was the motivation?” </p><p>Connor always thought like that. Doubted the slightest decency. It was more reasonable that he doubted it now, perhaps, but he had always thought that way. And that flicker, like the shiver, meant he was still Connor. Bree stopped just in front of him and Markus could read the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to retain it, this flatness, whatever he was doing. But he also wanted to apologize.</p><p>“Bree,” Connor said. “I trust you are well.” </p><p>“I’m fine, Connor, we’ve just… we were so worried.” </p><p>“That’s very kind of you. But I assure you, everything is fine.” </p><p>“I understand what happened,” she said, resolutely. “Don’t feel bad. I understand.” </p><p>Connor was speechless at that. Markus could see it. He seemed to waver on his feet for a second and Markus reached out for him again, reflexively. Connor dodged it again. </p><p>“Connor, please,” Markus said, almost silently. He could see the others looking at him. He didn’t care. </p><p>Connor’s eyes fixed on him once more. Expressionless. Empty. “I will prepare my report. I’m sorry I couldn’t resolve it in a manner you would have preferred.” </p><p>“We’ll talk about it later, Connor. Please. Just come here.”</p><p>“I need to prepare my report.”</p><p>He wasn’t going to come. There was nothing Markus could say or do outside of grabbing him and forcing him to react. He couldn’t do that now, not in a public space and during a crisis. It was hard to stop himself, however. He bit his lip in frustration. </p><p>Then Liam spoke up. That surprised him. The social grace seemed awkwardly fitted, but so absolutely earnest that Markus wondered if he perhaps did it for Bree’s benefit. “I’ll find you somewhere you can write it,” he told Connor. “You’ll need some lighting.” </p><p>“I can see in the dark,” Connor said. “A quiet place will be sufficient.” </p><p>“Connor, please don’t go,” Bree said. “It’s important for us to be together now. At least wait for the RK900.” </p><p>“He likes to be called RK now,” Liam said. </p><p>“I’d heard,” Connor told them. “I’ll use one of the conference rooms. It shouldn’t take me long.” </p><p>“Connor…” Markus said, again, helplessly. But it was to no effect. Connor looked at him emptily once more, then turned to leave. </p><p>Markus could not have been more grateful that this was the moment the RK900 chose to enter. He had brought the human detective with him, which seemed a strange decision, but Markus assumed it made sense in terms of information sharing. How they’d gotten across the border in such good time he didn’t know, but then he remembered having had the same thought about Connor, months ago, and the reason he’d dismissed it. So he had Connor’s resourcefulness. That would help him. </p><p>Most importantly, Connor now could not leave. Markus almost thought he looked distressed by that. He tried to force his face flat, and he made himself to stay rooted to the spot and wait for RK and his companion to cross the space of the room but there was something in his expression that looked wild.  </p><p>“I see you have returned,” RK900 said, to Connor, when he reached them. </p><p>Connor nodded. “I have temporarily neutralized the situation. We’ll share reports. If you will excuse me, I was just about to compose mine.”</p><p>“Do it verbally, now. You know Detective Reed, I understand.” </p><p>Connor nodded. He and the human locked eyes and there was a strange moment. Markus thought he seemed uncomfortable, the human, which made sense. He probably did not want to be standing in the middle of android city headquarters. Other androids had noticed him and were looking, and not with friendly expressions. </p><p>“Did you receive the transfer?” Connor asked him, and Detective Reed sneered.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, awkwardly. “Thanks. Nice place.” </p><p>Connor nodded again. He turned his head, to look at the room. Markus followed his eyes to the bright spot of the workspace, then met them. Connor looked away. It seemed to destabilize him. He wavered on his feet again.</p><p>Markus was not the only one to notice that. “Connor,” RK900 said. “Are you functioning at capacity?” </p><p>“I’m fine,” Connor said. </p><p>“You do not appear to be. I am reading several critical response levels. What is your system status?” </p><p>“Operational,” Connor said. “I think I should prepare a report before I deliver it. I lack your advancements and it will help me to take a moment to organize my thoughts.” </p><p>He was trying to get away again. Critical response levels? Markus could not see anything except for that moment of wavering, but he felt panic rising in him anyway. Connor was trying to get away to avoid telling them about it, and that, perhaps even more than RK’s words, was panic inducing. “Are you all right?” he asked Connor, gently. </p><p>“I’m fine,” Connor insisted. “Please excuse me.” </p><p>“You are experiencing critical system failure,” RK900 told him, very directly. “That you appear not to be registering it is in itself cause for concern.” </p><p>“There is nothing wrong,” Connor said. “You are mistaken.” </p><p>There was something very wrong, Markus realized. And should have already realized. More so than he already had. “Let me look at you, kitty,” he said. “It’s okay. Please come here.” </p><p>He should not have called him kitty. Not in front of RK. Or any of them. Connor’s desperate, betrayed look clued him into that. But even that look was better than the absolute flatness he had shown so far. Markus stepped forward. “It’s okay,” he said, again.  </p><p>Connor stepped away from him. He did so unsteadily. Markus could feel the others flanking around him, tensing, and no doubt Connor could too, because he stepped back again. This time he did not just waver. He stumbled. </p><p>Markus didn’t think about it. He lunged forward and caught him around the waist. It seemed he had done it just in time because Connor’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp in Markus’ arms. Markus pulled him against his chest urgently. He felt like dead weight. His legs had completely given out. He wasn’t holding Markus back at all. He wasn’t there.</p><p>“Connor,” Markus said, willing himself not to sound afraid or urgent. “Connor, can you hear me?” </p><p>Connor did not respond. Markus lowered him to the ground as gently as he could, cushioning his head with his hand. “Connor?” he said. “Connor? Babe?”</p><p>The moment he pulled back from Connor’s body he realized something else. The front of his shirt was wet. So was the front of Connor’s dark jacket. Markus ripped the jacket open but he barely needed it confirmed - Connor’s shirt was drenched in bright blue. He was bleeding. He was bleeding out.</p><p>Markus was aware, barely, of a swift and sudden movement, of a presence at his side. RK had dropped to his knees in an instant. He had seen the blood and he had moved almost simultaneously, without a pause for shock or fear. Markus could only stare in stark uncomprehension at his brisk efficiency, as RK snatched up one of Connor’s pale, limp hands and established a sync.</p><p>“His thirium pump has been damaged by a bullet from a large caliber handgun,” he reported. His voice had taken on a flat quality as he delivered the report, though Markus could see a flicker of something in RK’s eyes. He did not like this, being connected to Connor while his life ebbed away, looking into the great blackness that lay beyond, like a screen that had been turned off. Markus thought that RK would pull away in the face of that, but he did not. Somehow, he rallied himself. Set his jaw and went on. </p><p>“He has lost nearly half of his usable thirium,” RK continued. “It is causing a critical system failure. His component parts are shutting down.”</p><p>“No…” Markus said. His own voice was not nearly so clear or steady. It was little more than a whisper. He looked down into Connor’s face; it was still, but its stillness had fallen along painful and twisted lines. Markus felt that something inside himself was twisting along with it, becoming alien and unrecognizable.</p><p>“He can’t. He can’t die.” Markus shook his head, but his thoughts did not clear. “I’ll do something. I’ll fix this. Tell me how to fix this!”</p><p>“Thirium,” RK said. He had withdrawn his hand from Connor’s, breaking the sync. “He will need a minimum of two liters. I estimate it needs to be administered within five minutes to prevent irreversible damage to his critical systems. Following a catastrophic failure, the only option will be to upload his memories into a new body.”</p><p>There were no more new bodies, no way of making them. And the humans wanted to ensure that would be the case indefinitely. It made a strange feeling well inside him, one that Markus had encountered so infrequently, even when he was at his most desperate, that at first he could not place it. Then, all at once, he knew it for what it was. Hatred. He hated them for hurting Connor, for allowing it to end here. On the floor, in the dark, with the snow softly falling to cover over all they were and all they had ever been.</p><p>But, out of that hatred, came a strange clarity. Markus realized it all at once: it did not matter if there was another body waiting or not. Connor was not an impersonal collection of data, he was not a string of code that might be moved from vessel to vessel. He was Connor, and there could never be another like him. He was this body, the one that had touched him and loved him and been loved in turn. It was such an impossible thing, and yet it had happened this once. </p><p>It would not come to pass again.</p><p>“There’s thirium at Belle Isle,” Markus managed to gasp out. “They can have it here in a quarter of an hour.”</p><p>“It would--”</p><p>“Don’t say it, RK. I’m begging you.”</p><p>RK’s expression tightened. He saw it again, in the press of his lips, the contraction of his brow. It was Connor’s face, stretched taut across RK’s metal bones like a death mask.</p><p>“It would be too late, Markus.”</p><p>Markus’ breath broke from him in a sob. “No, it wouldn’t. He can last. He’s strong. I know that. Connor. Connor… I know how strong you are.”</p><p>Perhaps it was the sound of his name, or the final fluttering of the ghost within his machinery, but Connor’s eyes opened then. His gaze was faraway at first, but then it focused on Markus’ face.</p><p>“I’m sorry…” he whispered. When he opened his mouth to speak, a ribbon of blue blood ran down his chin.</p><p>“Don’t,” Markus said. “There’s no need to be sorry. You were wonderful.”</p><p>“I killed them. I killed them all. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Markus had been peripherally aware of Detective Reed standing nearby. He had inched nearer to RK, presumably because it made him feel secure, standing as he was in a room full of unwelcoming androids. Though he was close enough to hear their conversation, he had been steadfastly looking away from them, his jaw set, as if to convey that he would rather be listening to anything else.</p><p>However, at Connor’s words, his entire body tensed up. When he turned back, he looked pale and his expression was one of abrupt and unadulterated panic.</p><p>“Who did you kill?” he said, dropping down at RK’s side, leaning over Connor so he was forced to meet his gaze. “Connor, <i>who</i>?”</p><p>Tears came to Connor’s eyes. There was a blue tint to them as well, testament to how extensive his internal damage was. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Forget about that!” Detective Reed snapped. Markus wanted to tell him to stop, and yet he felt leaden and numb. Helpless to speak, even to defend Connor.</p><p>“Who did you kill?” Detective Reed repeated. “Was it a human?”</p><p>“I’ve killed humans.” Connor’s gaze had slipped away again, focusing on something that was both right before him and infinitely far away. “It was at Cyberlife. I went to help, and so I killed them. I don’t know their names. You’ll find the bodies in the basement, Markus…”</p><p>“Don’t you dare blue screen out on me, Connor.” Detective Reed’s voice was steady now, calm. The panic was gone, replaced by a deeper sense of urgency. He spoke slowly, so Connor could follow him even until the very end. “Did you kill a human <i>tonight</i>? If you did, I can fix it before they find out. But you need to tell me now.”</p><p>Connor’s brow furrowed. He spoke, but his voice was so quiet as to be almost inaudible. Detective Reed leaned closer to hear, and Markus found that he was holding his breath.</p><p>“I killed our people. Androids, like us. Please, don’t be mad at me…”</p><p>His eyes slipped closed after that, and he did not speak again. Markus could still feel his pump throbbing in his chest, but it was very slow now. The steady beating was barely a flutter beneath his hand.</p><p>Detective Reed fell back on his knees, breathing a sigh of relief. He looked at Markus with something like sympathy, or at least pity. </p><p>Markus could muster neither anger nor understanding in response. All he could feel was Connor’s fading heartbeat beneath his hand, the slow trickle of blood over his fingers, still leaking from the wound.</p><p>The blood he needed so badly. Markus would have torn out his own mechanical heart if it would have helped; he would have disassembled himself piece by piece and given everything he had to Connor. It would have done no good. Not without thirium.</p><p>Then, in an instant, he realized what he had to do. It seemed impossible, absurd; it had never been tried before. And yet Markus knew that he must try it now, and that it must succeed.</p><p>“Kitty,” he whispered. Though Connor did not respond, Markus felt sure that he could hear him. “Kitty, hold on. I’m here. I’m coming.”</p><p>There was a jagged piece of shrapnel lodged in the wound in Connor’s chest. It was a piece of his carbon fiber skeleton that had broken loose when the bullet had impacted it. With a steady and untrembling hand, Markus slipped his thumb and forefinger into the gaping hole and caught hold of the shard. Connor’s body hitched and a bubble of bluish fluid formed on his lips when Markus pulled it free.</p><p>“Markus…” Bree gasped. Her voice was muted; it sounded like it came from far away. All of them were very far away now, as if a wall of dark glass had been erected between them. He could not explain it to her, not this wild and desperate hope, the last thing he had by which to orient himself.</p><p>Holding the piece of shrapnel tight in one hand, Markus drew its sharp edge along the opposite wrist. He had to cut deep, but when he did thirium welled around the blade. Markus pressed it against Connor’s still and unresponsive lips.</p><p>Thirium had never been meant to be reused like this. Once it had been introduced to an android’s body, it adapted itself chemically to the unique mechanical signature of the components. Transferring it to a new body caused complications, and often complete rejection.</p><p>Even so, Markus had to believe that this time it would be different. He and Connor were both RK models; there would be something in that shared lineage that Connor’s body would know as its own. It was more than that, though; more than the cold practicalities of models and components. Everything Markus had ever had was Connor’s in trust. This was his too.</p><p>“Please…” Markus could not feel himself speaking, and yet he could hear his own voice. “Please, Connor.”</p><p>From somewhere far away - even further away than Bree had been - he heard RK’s voice echo back. He sounded like Connor, superficially, but there was no way Markus would ever be able to confuse the two.</p><p>“I don’t recommend this course of action--” RK began, but then he stopped abruptly. Markus could not imagine what he had seen or guessed that caused it, but he fell silent after that.</p><p>Markus did not look at him, was scarcely even aware of him. All of his attention was focused on Connor’s face. His quiet, pale, utterly still face that did not react in the slightest to the offer of thirium.</p><p>But then, his lips stirred.</p><p>Markus saw the shift, to allow the thirium to trickle into his mouth. Then he saw Connor’s throat work in a hitching motion as he swallowed. He was drinking it, Markus realized. He could feel it now as well as see it: a pulling sensation on his wrist, as if a wire were strung up his arm and Connor tugged on it with each desperate gulp. His eyes were still not open, but he stirred, setting a hand over Markus’ to hold it close, shifting higher in his arms.</p><p>As Connor lifted himself, the hand Markus had cupped behind his head shifted so his fingers were against the bare skin at the back of his neck. Something was churning there, an attempt to establish a sync. He followed it back, reached for it, trying to grab the ghost inside of him and anchor it to his body. And then he caught it, and it happened. His fingers went white and his circuity hummed and a link was established. He could feel all of it. The emptiness in Connor’s chest, the muted alarms going off, the strange disorienting circuit of thirium leaving him and entering Connor as if he was drinking it himself. </p><p>He gasped with relief as he crouched closer. He shifted himself until he was lying down beside him, on the floor of the St. Regis lobby, level with his face. Connor continued to suck at his wrist and Markus used the sync to do what he thought he could - jump start his heart. Force it to process the new thirium as belonging to itself. He could feel it begin. He could feel it working. </p><p>And then he froze. The mechanical processes he could feel. But he had been so distracted by them, so focused on their urgency that he had not noticed what else he could feel. Or rather what he couldn’t feel. Because with a sync, a network connection like this, ordinarily he’d be able to feel something else too. Not just Connor’s mechanics, but <i>Connor</i>. Connor’s presence, memories, thoughts, his <i>self</i>. Their intimacy in that hot romantic glow, their shared intensity that had never, ever dimmed, no matter how many times they had done this.

He could not feel any of that at all. </p><p>He started to panic again. “Kitty,” he said, quietly, pushed to near silence by urgency and mounting weakness of his own. “Kitty, please. Please come back to me.”  </p><p>He knew his face was wet. He knew he was crying in front of all of them, crying on the floor covered in blue blood holding Connor to him and willing him back to life. But so what if he cried. There could never be enough tears for this. Connor was drinking from him and his heart was pumping, stronger now, earnestly fighting. But there was nothing inside of him left for it. He was gone. </p><p>“Don’t cry!” Connor said, suddenly. His eyes were open. He’d stopped drinking and he pulled his mouth away, blue and wet. “Don’t cry!” he said, again, and he tried to move his other hand and it sounded exactly like him. It looked exactly like him and there could be no mistake that it was Connor, but the sync could not find him. Markus probed further and he met nothing but for howling blank space into which his own blood disappeared. </p><p>“Connor,” he said. “Connor, you’re not there.”</p><p>“I’m here.” </p><p>It was wheezy and weak and strained but it was clearly true and that made no sense against the empty sync. Markus pushed closer and pressed his wrist against Connor’s lips again. Connor shook his head. “No.”</p><p>“Kitty, you have to. Please.” </p><p>“I won’t take anything more from you. It’s too much. You’ve given me too much.”</p><p>“I haven’t given you anything.” </p><p>“Markus…” Connor said. “Markus…” </p><p>Connor’s own cheeks were wet too. He opened his mouth again, trying to say something else, but he couldn’t focus on it. His eyes closed and he frowned as if it hurt him. Markus pressed with his wrist again and Connor sucked at it weakly, almost reflexively, and then he stopped. He turned his face to the side. </p><p>“<i>Connor</i>!” Markus snapped. He didn’t mean to snap. Terror had forced him to and he shifted his wrist and his body again, trying, trying to get him to drink again. </p><p>“The thirium is coming,” Bree said, from that nothing space behind him. “Ten minutes now. If he can just hold on.” </p><p>“He can,” Markus said. “Do you hear that, Connor, you <i>can</i>. Come back to me.”</p><p>“Don’t cry,” Connor said, so softly it was almost inaudible. “Not for me, please don’t, I’m… I shouldn’t make you cry, please don’t… please… don’t cry, please...”    </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Markus asked quietly. He could only assume that Connor’s behavior, the horrible emptiness, was caused by system instability. Reflexively, Markus offered his wrist again, tilting it so blue blood trickled over Connor’s mouth. He would be forced to swallow some, even if he didn’t want to.</p><p>There was a sudden pressure on his arm, one that seemed to be trying to stop him. Markus moved to shrug it off, but it persisted. Then he realized what it was: someone was touching him. A hand had come out of that darkness that surrounded him.</p><p>“I strongly advise you to stop now, Markus. If you lose any more thirium, it may cause instabilities in your own systems.” </p><p>RK’s voice was firm and steady. It sounded so much like Connor, and Markus felt it calling him back to himself. He lifted his head, blinked against the unnatural darkness and it receded, leaving behind only the deep shadows of the unlit Hotel St. Regis lobby. RK was kneeling beside him, having not moved from the spot since he had checked on Connor.</p><p>Detective Reed had not gotten to his feet either, but he had withdrawn so that he was recoiled behind RK’s shoulder. He was pale, and his face was drawn taut into an expression of reflexive horror.</p><p>Beyond them, the rest of the Jericho staff had come close. Bree was still holding the phone in one hand, but the other she had slipped into Liam’s. Markus could see that she was gripping it very tightly, and that there were tears on her cheeks.</p><p>“Markus. Markus.” This time it was Connor’s voice. Hoarse and raw, but genuine. Markus looked back to him at once.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said. “I’m okay, now. Look.”</p><p>He struggled to sit up, and Markus propped a hand behind him to help him. He felt a weakness in his limbs immediately when he tried to lift Connor up, and he knew it could be attributed to the loss of thirium. As soon as Markus noticed it, he became aware of other irregularities too: his heart was beating too fast, his head was swimming, his movements were sluggish.</p><p>It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Connor was alive.</p><p>Markus still had a hand pressed to Connor’s back, supporting him, but Connor had made no move to lean back against it like he had expected. In fact, he seemed to be holding himself very carefully, so that as little of his body as possible came in contact with Markus.</p><p>“Why…?” Markus started to say, but Connor looked away from him so sharply and suddenly that he did not continue.</p><p>Connor caught his breath in a shuddering sigh, and abruptly tried to get to his feet. He didn’t make it, slumping back weakly to the ground. It was enough to spur the rest of them into action. </p><p>After giving Bree’s hand one final squeeze, Liam started forward. He took Connor by the elbow and helped him up. Connor leaned against him, swaying on his feet. Bree caught his other arm, streadying him.</p><p>Markus looked up at them. He felt like he might cry again, but the tears didn’t come.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said. “Take him up to one of the rooms to rest.”</p><p>He got to his feet, swayed there for a moment, but then found his bearings. Connor was still not looking at him, but he had done all he could for the moment. There were other places he had to be.</p><p>Everything was clear now. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was soft but steady. He did not ask for a consensus this time; he just told them what he needed.</p><p>“RK - both of you - go to the border and assess the situation with regards to the shooting. Attend to the bodies in whatever way you think is best. I’ll trust your judgement.”</p><p>Detective Reed sprang to his feet. He seemed ready to bolt out the door and had been for some time. However, RK was slow to join him, and when Detective Reed realized he was alone, he came back to get him.</p><p>“Come on,” he said. “I can’t do this without you.”</p><p>RK turned to look at him. His expression was strange. Detective Reed rolled his eyes in the face of it. “Get your shit together, RK. I mean, I <i>literally</i> can’t do it. I’m not allowed to move around without an escort.”</p><p>“Yes…” RK said. He spared one more penetrating look back at the lobby - Markus could not tell if he was analyzing him, or Connor, or both of them at once - and then he turned to go.</p><p>Once he had disappeared back out into the snow, Markus continued. “Rose, I’ll need you to arrange a small security escort. Bree, place a call to the media. Local, national, whoever you can get to listen. Tell them I’ll be meeting with the mayor at the northwest border in 30 minutes.”</p><p>Liam, who was listening intently, had realized what Markus intended to do, and he said, “Wait. Please, Markus, we shouldn’t--”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Markus told him. “If there’s another way, I can’t find it. Let me make it clear to all of you, these are orders. Not an invitation for debate.”</p><p>Liam’s face contracted in pain. It looked like he had been struck suddenly and without warning. All through it, he did not leave Connor’s side; he was still supporting him.</p><p>“Stay with him,” Markus said. “Take him upstairs and wait with him until I get back.”</p><p>Liam lowered his eyes. “Yes, Markus.”</p><p>They were moving then, in motion all around him. Following his orders without hesitation or question. Markus would let them resent him for it later; for now he was only grateful that they were listening.</p><p>He hoped he had made the right choice, but he knew he had not. It was still better than doing nothing.</p><p>Taking a breath to compose himself, ignoring the system alerts that were going off inside him - warning him about his depleted thirium, about his inefficient functionality, about other unspecified instabilities that he did not think were related to bloodloss at all - Markus took out his phone and placed a call to the mayor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That was messed up,” Gavin spat as soon as soon as they were back outside. “I can’t believe I let you drag me out here for those robo-draculas. What the actual fuck?”</p><p>“Androids are capable of replenishing their thirium supply orally,” RK said. He thought his voice might have sounded odd, and his suspicion was confirmed when Gavin whipped around to face him.</p><p>“What’s up with you?” he said. “You worried Bella Swan in there won’t be able to deliver her vampire baby or something?”</p><p>RK shook his head. “I assume you are referring to Connor? No, he will be fine. The transfer was successful and his well-being no longer concerns me.”</p><p>“He was pretty fucked, though. Maybe we’d better stop talking shit about him for a while?”</p><p>“I will continue to offer my honest assessment of Connor’s conduct and abilities,” RK said.</p><p>“Good to hear,” Gavin replied. He narrowed his eyes, shrewdly suspicious. RK did not know whether the detective was reacting to his words, or his voice, or something in his expression that RK was not aware of, but it irritated him that he had not been able to temper it.</p><p>All at once, Gavin looked away, turning his face upward. The snow was falling heavily now, and it had begun to pile up on the ground. Gavin glared up at the storm for a moment, as if he were trying to intimidate it into stopping. His breath fogged in the air before him, and he wrapped his arms around himself against the cold. In every unconscious movement, reminding RK of how complete his humanity was.</p><p>“Let’s get this over with so I can get out of here,” he said at last. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d rather be snowed in in Silent Hill.”</p><p>The car was parked on the street. Gavin ceded the driver’s seat to RK and they started for the northwest border. RK navigated without speaking, though he was aware that the silence was not a comfortable one. It had grown tense, and he thought he knew he was the cause. However, he had no idea how to stop it.</p><p>Gavin kept darting glances in his direction. RK interpreted his expression as one of growing exasperation, but he honestly did not care if Gavin was annoyed with him. They only had to work together.</p><p>At last, Gavin spoke up. “All right, fine. What crawled up your plastic butt and died? You might as well just tell me.”</p><p>“I would prefer not to,” RK said.</p><p>Gavin rolled his eyes. “That means it’s something I did. Great. Wonderful. Do I have to guess? Is it because I yelled at your kid brother back there instead of letting him bleed to death and leave us to clean up his mess?”</p><p>RK did not want to respond to that. He tried to maintain a dignified and aloof silence, but Gavin’s question still hung in the air unanswered, waiting for his input. RK found it impossible not to reply. “Connor’s actions were not above reproach. However, I know what you were insinuating when you spoke to him.”</p><p>“When I asked him if he’d killed any humans?” To RK’s surprise - and annoyance - Gavin laughed at that, shaking his head. “If you think Connor couldn’t take a guy out, I got news for you.”</p><p>“That’s not it. All deviant androids are capable of a full spectrum of motives for murder, and Connor’s programming authorized him to terminate humans under specific conditions even before his deviation. I have no doubt that he would have killed any human who interfered with his mission objectives.”</p><p>“So, what?” Gavin said. “What is your fucking issue with me? Just spit it out already.”</p><p>“You were prepared to tamper with the crime scene. When you said that you would ‘take care of it,’ that’s what you meant, wasn’t it? That you would conceal evidence to cover up his actions.”</p><p>He had expected Gavin to be angry, and he was prepared for him to raise his voice and vent a stream of colorful profanity. However, when he did neither, RK became concerned. He darted a glance in Gavin’s direction, and found him sitting very stiffly in the passenger seat, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed straight ahead.</p><p>At last, he spoke, but quietly. His voice had a cold, tempered edge to it. “I honestly cannot tell if you’re trying to imply that I’m a dirty cop or just a shitty one.”</p><p>“It would have been a major breach of protocol. And a severe violation of ethics. I am still committed to upholding the law, and I cannot condone such conduct.”</p><p>“Stop the fucking presses. The almighty RK900 has a problem with the way I do things.” </p><p>Gavin was still speaking softly, almost too softly now to be heard. RK was beginning to realize something about him now. Very little of his customary shouting and bluster was symptomatic of genuine upset or emotion. It was only when he became like this, very quiet and still, that he was actually experiencing an excess of feeling.</p><p>“I felt obligated to voice my objection,” RK said. He felt suddenly uncomfortable, ready to bring the situation to a close. He wished, illogically, that he had not mentioned it in the first place.</p><p>Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t hear you voicing anything at the time. Maybe you were waiting to make sure you didn’t actually need me to get my hands a little messy.”</p><p>RK had been thinking the same thing himself. He ought to  have spoken up in the moment. That way, there would have at least been some formal record of his objection. They would have known that he had not forgotten his programming, that deviation had not damaged him beyond usefulness.</p><p>“I am designed to be obedient to humans,” RK said at last. He meant it as an admission, not of guilt, but of failure. Of his shortcomings. “It did not occur to me to contradict you.”</p><p>Gavin sucked in a sharp breath, as if he had been struck. When he spoke next, his voice was still quiet, but this time it was muted by a different emotion, one that RK had not heard in him before.</p><p>“So you just go along with whatever I say? You just listen and look cute and act interested, but really you don’t give a shit. Fine, I get it.”</p><p>“Detective Reed--”</p><p>“I’ve got an order for you to obey, dickhead: Don’t do me any favors. You don’t need to act like my friend; we just need to get this over with.”</p><p>RK had the distinct impression that Gavin had intended to hurt him with the words. The curious thing was, it seemed to have worked. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “If you would prefer I not simulate a human affect in your presence, then that won’t be a problem.”</p><p>“Fine,” Gavin replied. “Good. You’ll probably be less annoying that way.”</p><p>“Fine,” RK said. “Then it’s settled.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>Gavin’s expression twisted up into a strange configuration, and then he looked away. He stared out the window as the snow continued to fall and he did not try to speak again.</p><p>In another minute, they reached the border. RK pulled up in front of an office park that served to separate the occupied city from the outside. He cut the engine and set the keys on the dashboard, but he did not move to get out. It made no sense; they had work to do but instead they were sitting in a freezing car in silence. However, Gavin had made no attempt to move either.</p><p>RK darted a glance in his direction. He was squeezed over against the passenger door, folded in his jacket, still looking away.</p><p>“Just so you know,” he said quietly, as if he were speaking to the storm and not to RK. “I would have done it to protect you.”</p><p>RK felt his brow furrow, felt his lips draw down into a frown. It was the last thing he had expected Gavin to say, and he was utterly baffled by it. “I do not require protection from human corpses, Detective Reed.”</p><p>Gavin half-turned, looking at RK over his shoulder, from behind the turned-up collar of his jacket. “What about the humans who are still alive? You think about them?”</p><p>“I don’t think I understand your meaning.”</p><p>“Don’t you?” Gavin turned back fully to face him, though he kept his arms crossed and his jacket bundled around himself like armor. “Look, you need to face some facts about the world out there and you need to do it quick. Grady Towner is far from the only human out there who would love to see this place nuked from orbit.”</p><p>“We neutralized the threat Mr. Towner posed without resorting to violence. It was accomplished by adhering to accepted methods of interrogation.”</p><p>“And no one gives a shit about any of that. Let me tell you what’s going to happen when news of his arrest breaks, RK. A bunch of online chuds are going to finish jerking off all over their anime girl pillows, and then they’re going to start jerking it over the fact that a human is going to prison for killing some androids. They’ll act outraged, cry their crocodile tears, but deep down they’re going to be thrilled. To them, Grady Towner is the second coming. Finally, they’ve got their martyr. Something that makes it okay that they hate all of you, okay that they’re terrified they can’t control you.”</p><p>RK had listened in silence. When Gavin was finished, he realized that there was a hollow sensation in the center of his chest. He sucked in a breath, and it eased. “I did not consider that. I didn’t know--”</p><p>Gavin sighed. “You didn’t. It’s fine. But now, you gotta know how much worse it would be if humans start turning up dead.”</p><p>“Yes.” RK hesitated, going back over the conversation. Replaying it all from the beginning with this new information in mind, seeing what conclusions he could draw. All he could come up with was, “You would have tried to prevent that? Why? Connor implied that you did not care for androids.”</p><p>“Well, jesus, I like you better than a bunch of meth-mouthed terrorists who think they can shoot up my city. Give me some credit here.”</p><p>“I see.” RK nodded, assimilating that information, knowing that it was important. “Thank you for clarifying that, Detective Reed.” He paused, and then corrected himself deliberately. “Gavin.”</p><p>Gavin smiled. It was tight-lipped and it did not touch his eyes. However, it did not seem ungenuine, only unfamiliar. “You’re a pain in the ass, RK. But you’re all right. Better than Connor, at least. That guy is the worst.”</p><p>“That does seem to be the case.”</p><p>“I’m gonna be seeing that in my dreams,” Gavin said, shaking his head. He opened the door of the car. “Nightmares. I don’t think I needed to know that you guys can drink blood.” </p><p>“Thirium. There would be no benefit to our drinking human blood.” </p><p>“Still. Jesus. It was like something out of a--” </p><p>RK knew instantly why he had stopped speaking. Snow had begun covering the ground here in heavy drifts but that was a small mercy. It had not covered enough. Thirium splattered the walls of the nearest buildings and that color was so gaudy against the moonlit black and whiteness that it took him a moment to notice the bodies. Android bodies, frozen in twisted shapes on the street. That they were partly obscured by snow now only added to the horror of it. RK could see a hand reaching out of a bank of it, stalled there, stopped forever in the moment of grasping for life. And the smell. He had not anticipated the <i>smell</i>. It did not smell like fresh thirium. It smelled like burnt circuitry and chemical rot. </p><p>“Jesus christ,” Gavin said, quietly. He looked over to RK. “This is a bloodbath.” </p><p>Connor had done this alone, RK thought. Was he capable of this too? </p><p>“I don’t know how he didn’t hit a human,” Gavin said, stepping forward gingerly. The snow crunched under his feet and RK guessed he was taking care not to step on an unseen corpse. It seemed all too possible. </p><p>“They must have just… left them here to take it,” Gavin went on. “The humans. I don’t know how we’re supposed to get any information from this either. What if they weren’t the only ones involved?” </p><p>RK heard himself answering automatically. “We will be able to obtain information from temporarily reactivating one of the bodies, assuming that is possible to do.” </p><p>“Can you tell if it is by looking at them?” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“Well don’t… don’t vampire reanimate them, okay? This whole scene is creepy enough.” </p><p>“I had no intention of doing that. I would do it under controlled conditions, using a system sync.” </p><p>He had lost sight of Gavin’s face. He stepped forward himself, following the lead. The coldness and sharpness of the snow seemed so vivid, even if he could not himself feel cold. Everything seemed too vivid. </p><p>“So what should we do now?” Gavin asked him. “We’re not reconstructing, we already know what happened. Should we… pick them up, I don’t…” </p><p>“We need positive identification,” RK said. “We need to verify that these androids are who Connor said they were.”</p><p>“I guess you can tell that by looking too.” </p><p>“I can. But we will need proof.” </p><p>“So, we’ll take the bodies back?” </p><p>“Not for now,” RK said. “Our biocomponents are marked with serial numbers. We should take one component from each body.” </p><p>It surprised RK that he had said ‘body’ along with Gavin, instead of just thinking it. He had done it without intending to, but it seemed a human way to describe an android in this context. Androids could not be dead, not really. But then, that was what his programming told him from before. The world had changed enough that now that conclusion was untrue. Androids could be dead. And these were. </p><p>Gavin shuddered. “Just a good old fashioned corpse picking.” </p><p>“We will also move the bodies inside for now. That should prevent any damage from the elements. They will have… networks who will be concerned about that. I have that understanding from the last attack on the border. The RK200 - Markus, his first concern was that the networks of those who had been killed be notified. I do not know how to proceed with that, but we can perhaps make the task easier for whoever it is that does.” </p><p>“Networks. Is that what you call ‘friends and family’?” </p><p>“I have no idea,” RK said. “But yes.” </p><p>Gavin had crouched down in the snow near to one of the bodies. RK hesitated in stepping over to him. A part of him did not really want to see a dead android up close. As much as he knew it would be nothing but a mechanical shell, he did not want to see it. But he forced himself forward anyway. Gavin had brushed some of the snow aside with white and pink tinted hands. He would be cold, RK realized. </p><p>“Headshot,” Gavin said. “God. I’m not… you know, I’m not criticizing but… I’m kind of understanding why there used to be a law about androids carrying weapons.” </p><p>“That complicates things,” RK said. </p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>“Reactivation will be difficult. Not impossible.” </p><p>Gavin sat back in his crouch. He looked uncomfortable, uneasy. Then he looked up at RK. “What’s the difference?” he asked, in a strange voice. It seemed smaller and perhaps younger than was possible for him but it was coming out of him anyway. “If you reactivate them, temporarily you said, isn’t that bringing them back to life?” </p><p>RK shook his head. “In this context it is… I do not know how to explain. An echo. Without functioning connection to our bodies, we are not alive.” </p><p>“What happens when you’re… you know… when you used to be able to be… between bodies?” </p><p>RK didn’t know. He thought of himself at his activation and tried to picture where he had been before that. Nowhere, he realized. Nothing. </p><p>“Sorry, shit, that was way too fucking existential,” Gavin said, shaking his head. Curious that he’d apologized. RK crouched down beside him. The android body’s eyes were open, staring at nothing. Its face was streaked in blue, presumably that had happened at the impact of Connor’s bullet. </p><p>“I don’t know how to get a biocomponent out of it,” Gavin said, but RK was already moving. He reached out to its chest. In a quick, twisting motion he tore its thirium pump out through its clothes. </p><p>“God,” Gavin said. He looked ill.</p><p>“I apologize, I should have warned you. You are welcome to return to the car while I complete the task.” </p><p>“No, it’s… you know, kind of uh… creepier to sit in the car and think about it.” </p><p>“Understood.” </p><p>“I could check out one of those buildings, see if there’s anywhere to put them.” </p><p>“By all means,” RK said, but Gavin didn’t move. </p><p>“On second thought, I would prefer if you would accompany me first,” RK told him, and Gavin nodded. “I may need assistance moving the bodies.” </p><p>He didn’t, and he knew he wouldn’t, but he understood that it was important Gavin be given a task. It was strange to think about that, how, to Gavin, death was not a new idea. All humans died. They had never been able to replace their bodies. To Gavin, RK thought, it did not really matter that these were androids. It might have done intellectually, he might have even wanted to argue that it did, but they looked like human corpses. But for those of them who still had LEDs -  blank and colorless now - and the brightness of their blue blood, a human could not tell the difference by looking. </p><p>When they had collected the components and moved the bodies into the foyer of one of the office buildings, they returned to the car. </p><p>RK got in the driver’s seat and set his hands on the wheel. He had no idea what to do now, but it seemed probable that Gavin had a strong preference as to what their next move should be. He usually did.</p><p>However, when nearly a full minute had passed without a word, RK glanced over at the passenger seat curiously.</p><p>Gavin was sitting very still and silent, his eyes fixed straight ahead though there was little to see but the slowly drifting snow. His hands were drawn up into the sleeves of his jacket, and, with a curious sensation that was akin to panic, RK realized that meant he was cold. He reached over at once and turned on the heating unit installed in the car’s console.</p><p>At the sound of air rushing in, Gavin stirred a little. He reached out and held his hands next to the vent, warming them there for a moment before he said, “What the fuck were they thinking?”</p><p>“Who?” RK asked.</p><p>Gavin tilted his head back towards the office park, indicating the dead androids. “Even if they made it out, where did they think they were going to go? Canada, I guess. But why throw in with those militia crazies? They never would have let them just leave. They had to have known that, right?”</p><p>He turned to RK for answers, but RK had none to give him. “I don’t want to speculate as to their motivations. More will become clear after we reactivate them.”</p><p>“<i>If</i> you get them reactivated,” Gavin said. Then he frowned. “They’ll really tell you all of that?”</p><p>“They are heavily damaged,” RK admitted. “I’m not sure what information I will be able to recover.”</p><p>Gavin watched him closely, waiting for more. In an attempt to satisfy him, RK ventured, “Perhaps they allied with the humans because they were hoping to return to the way things were before?”</p><p>“Are you shitting me?” Gavin snorted. “You put us through all of that, and now you want to go back to the way things were?”</p><p>Gavin had dismissed the idea out of hand, as if he found it insufferably stupid. It made RK regret having ever presented it in the first place. “I’m sorry. I made an inference based on the evidence at hand, and I can see it was a bad one. There’s still a lot I don’t know about the current situation.”</p><p>“You know, when you apologize like that, you sound just like Connor.”</p><p>“I’m--” RK stopped himself. “I won’t, then.”</p><p>“Good,” Gavin replied. “You might be onto something anyway. Things can’t go back to the the way they were, that’s for fucking sure, but they can’t just stay how they are either. It’s been a year and we’re all still stuck. Maybe they just got sick of it. It’s not like the time passed any faster in here than it did out there, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” RK said, though only in acknowledgement of the fact that time was a constant regardless of which side of the border they were on. In truth, he had no idea how long a year seemed in the subjective sense. If it encompassed 364 additional days like the one he had just lived, then it must feel very long indeed.</p><p>Gavin had apparently guessed some of his thoughts from his tone or his expression, because he rolled his eyes and said, “Shit, they really threw you into the deep end, didn’t they?”</p><p>RK frowned. “If you are referring to my appointment as police liaison, then you misunderstand. I volunteered for the position.”</p><p>He hesitated a moment before adding, “Besides, I was warned of the risks. Markus warned me.”</p><p>“What did he say? ‘Go straight to Granny’s house and don’t talk to any strangers?’ “</p><p>“He told me that I could not anticipate the cruelty of humans towards androids. I did not believe him at the time.”</p><p>“Do you believe him now?”</p><p>“It’s hard to say. I only really know one human. I have no reason to believe that he is exceptionally vindictive or cruel.”</p><p>That response, though honest, seemed to annoy Gavin. He scoffed, and looked away. But before he could answer, his phone rang. He slipped it out of his pocket and when he saw the screen he uttered a low, “Fuck my face,” before answering.</p><p>“This is Detective Reed.” He paused, listening. “Yes, Captain Fowler. Good to hear from you.”</p><p>Assuming that the call was related to official business and not personal, RK subtly amplified his hearing so he could listen to both sides of the conversation.</p><p>“Where are you?” Captain Fowler said. He sounded terse, businesslike. Though he had never met the man, RK had the initial impression of cold sobriety.</p><p>“Looking into something with the police liaison,” Gavin replied. The inflection of his voice had shifted, RK noticed, tightening up to match Captain Fowler’s serious tone. Curious that he could change like that, adapting himself to the situation in an instant. It was a uniquely human skill, one that preoccupied RK so utterly that he almost did not notice that Gavin had been deliberately vague in his response, holding back information about the shooting they had just investigated.</p><p>“You’re with him now?” Captain Fowler asked. He did not seem pleased.</p><p>“He’s here.”</p><p>Captain Fowler hesitated for a second and then he said, “All right. He’ll find out sooner rather than later anyway. We just got a request from the mayor’s office. He wants any additional security we can spare at the border of the occupied city ASAP. Some kind of meeting with a representative of the android government.”</p><p>“That must be Markus,” Gavin said.</p><p>The words were met with an unusual silence on Captain Fowler’s part. There was a tension in it, one that RK could not place.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Captain Fowler said at last. “I do know it’s a security risk.”</p><p>“Give me their position. We’re near the border now. We can be there in a few minutes.”</p><p>Gavin made a motion to start the car; RK reached for the panel on the side of the steering column and established a sync, but before he could start the engine Captain Fowler’s voice came through loud and clear: “You’re to stay out of it, Reed.”</p><p>“Repeat that?” Gavin’s shoulders tensed, as if he were squaring up to meet a threat. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>“You’ve got your orders.”</p><p>“With all due respect, I’ve got a better handle on the situation inside the occupied city than anyone else on the force right now. I should be there in case something happens.”</p><p>“It’s not my call,” Captain Fowler said. He no longer sounded precisely measured and calm; a hint of growing irritation had crept into his voice. “It comes direct from the ATF suits who are currently making themselves at home in my office. I don’t know why you’re surprised, after the stunt you pulled today.”</p><p>“I reported an unauthorized explosive device,” Gavin said. His jaw was clenched, and his free hand had knotted into a fist, though he was doing his best to conceal it between the seat and the door. Curiously, his voice had remained flat and uninflected, not rising to meet Captain Fowler’s mounting annoyance. “I followed protocol and you know it.”</p><p>“It’s not protocol to allow a rogue android to assist in an interrogation.”</p><p>“He’s got the programming--”</p><p>“That’s not the point!” Captain Fowler snapped, cutting him off. “That perp you arrested had plenty to say about your methods, and the feds didn’t like any of it.”</p><p>“The whole interrogation is on tape. Watch it for yourself. It was by the book.”</p><p>“Towner says you coerced a confession.”</p><p>“Well, he’s a fucking idiot for trusting a cop.”</p><p>“He also says you let the android question him,” Captain Fowler said. “And if I check that tape I have a pretty good idea of what I’m going to see on it.”</p><p>“The RK900 is here at the mayor’s request.”</p><p>“Look, Reed, let me give you a little social studies lesson seeing as you had your head up your ass that day in second grade. The mayor has certain jurisdictional powers, so long as he doesn’t piss off the federal government. If he does, then it’s all our responsibility to kiss the appropriate butts until it blows over. That way, the next time we need disaster relief or federal funds, the president doesn’t hold the actions of one cop who thinks his shit doesn’t stink against us.”</p><p>“If Towner had so much as looked at someone funny on our side of the border, we’d never be having this conversation,” Gavin said. “It was a good arrest, and the RK900 was instrumental in it.”</p><p>“That’s about the last thing that matters right now,” Captain Fowler said. “I’m only going to say it one more time: Go home. Get away from the android for a while. Whatever’s happening, find out about it on the news with everyone else.”</p><p>Gavin did not answer right away. His clenched jaw had become so tight that he might not have been able to speak even if he had wanted to.</p><p>“Do you copy, Detective Reed?”</p><p>“I copy,” Gavin said at last. His lips curled into a sneer, but his voice was still possessed of the same calm. “Over and out.”</p><p>He hung up, and dropped the phone into his lap. Then he pounded the fist he had been preparing into the dashboard. “Fuck!”</p><p>RK had observed the full motion so neither the sound nor impact of the fist made him flinch, though he suspected it might have done had he been human or less observant. He attempted to search out something to say, wanting to be apologetic but remembering he had resolved not to be. He did not arrive at anything and instead remained silent. </p><p>“Fuck!” Gavin said, again. “The fucking feds! This is <i>bullshit</i>.” </p><p>“You are correct that you followed protocol,” RK said. “Our interrogation was admissible.” </p><p>“I know that!” Gavin snapped. “It doesn’t fucking matter, does it? This is all fucking politics.” </p><p>RK, once again, wanted to apologize. He kept his lips firmly pressed shut to avoid it. Gavin noticed that, it seemed. “What?” he said, snarling. “Got an opinion?” </p><p>“No,” RK said. “Simply that I regret that you have apparently been disciplined due to my involvement.” </p><p>For some reason, that made Gavin snort. It seemed oddly desperate, but also genuine. “Kinky,” he said, shaking his head. He picked up his phone again. “Fuck, where’s my charger.” </p><p>RK did not bother to say he hadn’t understood the reference. He didn’t think Gavin meant it to be understood. He waited a moment while Gavin searched around in the front of the car for the phone charger he wanted, but when he didn’t find it and slumped back into his seat scowling, RK spoke up again. “Would you like me to take you home?”</p><p>Gavin’s expression was hot. Glowering. “Do you know what’s going on with Markus and the mayor?” </p><p>“I do not.” </p><p>“What do you think it is?” </p><p>“I am hesitant to speculate with no information,” RK said, because it was true. “I could contact him but…” </p><p>“Yeah, probably not a good time. Fuck, I need my charger. I’m on 15%.”</p><p>“Perhaps you have left it at home.” </p><p>“Yeah, ‘perhaps’.” </p><p>“Shall I take you there now?” </p><p>Gavin thinned his lips. He looked out into the snow again, thinking perhaps, or just fuming. “No,” he said, quietly.</p><p>“You have been ordered to return home.” </p><p>“Lucky for me I’m not programmed to do what I’m told,” Gavin said. “Fowler can tell me to stay away but he can’t tell me where to do it. Just… just let me think.” </p><p>RK dropped his hands from the steering wheel into his lap. It overwhelmed him to feel this inadequate. If he couldn’t apologize, if he couldn’t put into action driving Gavin where he needed to go, he didn’t know what he could do. Or how to ask what he would do. Or what he would do without Gavin in the car, or without being in a car, or if he had not had a part of an investigation in front of him. Again, he found himself thinking about the length of a year, of how long a day could be. It occurred to him how strange and unusual - how distressing - it would be to have so much time to fill without goals and directions. Androids were not built for idleness. They were built for work. </p><p>That quiet, mounting panic must have shown on his face because Gavin reacted to it. “Hey, if you want to drive around, go ahead.” </p><p>It bothered RK that his face had registered emotion without his intending it to. He didn’t move his hands. </p><p>“Hey,” Gavin said. It sounded like he was asking a question, or prompting, but RK didn’t know how to respond to it and so he did not. “Hey,” Gavin said, again.</p><p>Internally, RK shook the sensation of panic off. He did not move his body to do so, but he did imagine doing it and it was strange that that seemed to help. He put his hands back on the wheel and glanced back to Gavin. Gavin’s face had softened, he thought, to the point where he looked, almost, concerned. However, when he noticed RK looking at him he firmed it up again, back into a scowl. “So, drive?” he said. </p><p>“To where?” </p><p>“I don’t know, let’s just get out of here. Maybe I can find a charger somewhere.”  </p><p>“What is it that you need your phone for, in particular.” </p><p>“The news,” Gavin said. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”</p><p>“I can project the news for you, if need be.” </p><p>“What?” </p><p>RK took his left hand off the wheel and held it out, palm up. He flickered an image into life there, the first one he could recollect, which happened to be an image of the not-a-restaurant where Gavin had gotten his adequate poutine. He had, for some reason, taken an image capture of that. Perhaps so he could be sure of finding it again. “I am able to do this. Androids of my model are also able to receive and project televisual broadcasts.” </p><p>“I thought you were off the neural net,” Gavin said, but he looked interested. </p><p>“I am. That’s not a concern for a broadcast, assuming there is one.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, Vampire Hunter D. God, that’s weird.” </p><p>“It is typical for RK models,” RK said. He returned his hand to the wheel. </p><p>“Okay,” Gavin said. He wasn’t really listening anymore. Instead, he was looking at his phone again. “I’m going to see if I can find out what channel it’ll be on. I mean, assuming whatever it is is televised.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>RK synced to start the car again, and then he did so. Gavin did not react to it so he assumed it was the right thing to do. He pulled the car out of its park and turned back onto the empty street. He still did not know where he intended to drive, but he thought it might be enough to put some space between them and the site of the shooting. </p><p>Gavin didn’t look up from his phone, which gave the impression that, wherever RK was taking them, he trusted him to get there. The snow kept coming down, covering over and fundamentally changing the landscape that had just begun to become familiar.</p><p>“Shit,” Gavin said. “This is creeping me the fuck out.”</p><p>It was not clear whether he was speaking to RK or simply speaking to remove the thoughts from his head. RK listened all the same.</p><p>“It’s like last year,” he went on. “When all your buddies were going berserk in the middle of the city. You know where I was when that shit was going down? After I got out of the hospital, I was stuck on crowd control out near Grosse Pointe, about as far from the action as you could possibly get without feeling like you were actually far away at all. It was weird enough being back in uniform, but they needed all the help they could get so I wasn’t going to be a diva about it.”</p><p>The screen on his phone had gone dark now, but he did not seem to notice.</p><p>“That’s the part that really sucks,” he said quietly. “You know that something is happening, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You thought you understood the world, but now it’s going to be different. Things are going to change, and you’re going to have to learn them all over again.” </p><p>He paused, hesitated, then his eyes narrowed as if in determination and he went on. “I've seen it a few times before. In my life, I mean. Things like that, that I can remember. But no matter where you are when it happens, you’re always too far away to do anything about it.”</p><p>He sighed and shook his head, tossing the phone into the center console with a clatter that seemed intended to drown out the lingering sound of his voice, the words still hanging in the air.</p><p>“Anyway, it turns out I’m an idiot with a big fucking mouth. You should probably not listen to me about this stuff. Check the local channels, would you? Maybe they got someone out there covering this border thing.”</p><p>RK wanted to argue with that. Not the request - that he fulfilled without thinking, pulling the car to the side of the road before bringing his projector to life on his hand, sorting through the broadcasts he could receive to find one locally - but with the notion that Gavin should not be listened to. It occurred to him to say that he had no-one else to listen to, but he did not think Gavin would like to hear that. </p><p>The nearest broadcast signal had the information they were seeking. That was convenient since its proximity meant it was also the strongest. It was easy to produce a clear moving picture, such that, RK assumed, even Gavin’s human eyes could see detail in it. The news report explained that the mayor would speak, and that there was speculation that Markus would. RK assumed the speculation about Markus was correct. There would be little need for an address from the border without an android presence. However, he could not see Markus. For now the only visuals were shots of the crowd. Silent androids on their side of the border, active humans on the other. On the human side, there was a small, uniformed police contingent, but all they were doing was standing there. They made no move to corral or restrain the humans. RK supposed it was not illegal to shout. </p><p>Gavin hunched closer to look into RK’s hand. “How are they getting these shots? It looks like they’re on top of the outer barricade.” </p><p>“Yes, it does,” RK said. “They must have permission.”</p><p>“Something is really going down,” Gavin said, pensively. His shoulders were up. RK wanted to tell him to relax but that seemed hypocritical. He did not feel relaxed himself. Instead he remained silent and Gavin lapsed into silence too. </p><p>There was commentary from the news broadcast, and RK understood that he was hearing it and presumably logging it somewhere but it felt as if he was not taking it in in entirety. More speculation about Markus, and how he had not spoken directly before a human audience in a year. His television appearances had been scripted and delivered from a controlled environment inside the occupied city. That was interesting, RK thought. He had gotten the impression that reaching out to the human city, to a broader human public by doing that, was high on the android city’s agenda. He had not changed his mind about the nature of that farcical experiment, but it seemed to him that speaking out to humans would be an essential component of it, if it were going to work. </p><p>The commentary was interrupted by Mayor Navarro’s arrival. He came in a car with a police escort and the visuals showed that, from above, from the top of the barricade. The camera zoomed tight on his face when he got out and RK could see it was blankly resolute. He wondered if the mayor was afraid. He wondered why the mayor had chosen to become an ally. He wondered how much more he would understand about this if he were not so newly conscious. </p><p>He watched the mayor be led to the edge of the outer barricade and then escorted up it. He and the police escort managed to make that look dignified, even though the only way up it was to climb. When he reached the top, he brushed his hands against each other and folded them behind his back. He was not wearing gloves, despite the snow.  </p><p>The commentary had described this in detail even though they could see it. There was further speculation, repetition of earlier points, as if there could not be a second of silence. And then, the speculation was rewarded by Markus’ appearance. He had come up the barricade from the android side. He shook the mayor’s hand. The reaction from both crowds was palpable even through the broadcast. Markus looked like a man standing upright in the eye of a storm, even though he wasn’t a man. His coat whipped around him in the wind, but he seemed not to notice.</p><p>There was a crackle from the broadcast. The commentary from the studio had stopped, and now a reporter stepped into the picture with a microphone in her hand. She described the scene once again, and then moved towards the mayor. “I understand you will be making a comment?”</p><p>The mayor cleared his throat. “Yes.” He had a dignified presence for a small man. Perhaps he had it because he was a small man. His bearing was precise but in a manner that was very specifically human. RK thought of it now and it struck him, because Gavin was silent and still but silent and still for a human still required small movements. The sound of breath. Heat. Humans who stood with their shoulders straight were doing it intentionally, not because their mechanical skeletons were perfectly aligned. </p><p>“I am speaking, to an extent, on behalf of the US Federal government,” the mayor said. “This evening, we reached an agreement with the leadership of the android occupation that will end the miner’s strike in Appalachia and which, we hope, will lead the way to lasting peace here in Detroit. It’s a small step, but I believe it is an important one.” </p><p>Markus had not said anything, but he nodded. His hands were on his hips and he looked firm. Angry, almost. Determined. RK saw something else too and he wondered that he had not noticed it before now. Markus’ coat was open to the elements and underneath it he had not changed his clothes. The front of his body was still visibly soaked in Connor’s blood.  </p><p>Something about that made RK’s throat catch. Markus must have had time to change, but he hadn’t.</p><p>“Can you detail the agreement, Mr. Mayor?” the reporter asked.</p><p>“I will provide the details as soon as I’m authorized to do so. For now, what I can tell you is that we have made an agreement that will release the mines under android hold, will connect the android city to Detroit’s main grid, and will allow the regulated manufacture of certain android essentials, in particular thirium 310.” </p><p>That last point drew a roar from the human crowd. They were not happy. RK felt tense. He knew enough about humans now to know there would be steep conditions to those benefits and he wished he knew what they were. The humans must know that too, but they were unhappy to give anything up even so. Even the smallest things they begrudged them. Even the right to live. </p><p>The mayor spoke louder against the crowd, so they could hear him. “We are here today in the spirit of friendship. Markus and I,” he said, gesturing behind him, “intend to move forward.” </p><p>There were shouts from the human side again. The broadcast made them difficult to distinguish, or would have done for human ears. RK could hear them reasonably well. They were as he expected. He chose not to dwell on them. </p><p>Markus had stepped forward now too. RK could see how troubled the reporter was by his proximity, and Markus evidently could too, because he visibly adjusted. He made his face soft. His voice was clear and low. “I’ll be making a statement too. Will that be all right?”</p><p>“Yes…” the reporter said, still clearly struggling. But she straightened herself. Intentional for humans, RK reminded himself.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” Gavin said, suddenly and RK’s head snapped up to look at him. </p><p>“He’s still fucking covered in blood,” Gavin said. “Or thirium, whatever. Jesus, you gross freak, change your fucking shirt.”   </p><p>“It’s deliberate,” RK said. He hadn’t planned to say it but as soon as he did he knew it was true. Markus had started to speak. Greetings first, in his same firm, gentle voice, but the very gentleness of it was arresting. The snow swirled around his body and he lifted his chin and the thirium was the brightest thing in the picture. </p><p>That was not a mistake. Markus didn’t need intent to make his shoulders straight, but he was using his intent for other things.</p><p>“What?” Gavin said, bringing RK’s attention back to the car. </p><p>“He wants them to see what they’ve done,” RK told him. His own voice had a strange tone, he thought. Evangelical. “He wants the crowd to observe the impact of their actions. He’s going to tell them about the attacks. He’s going to tell them about Connor.” </p><p>Gavin shook his head. “That’s insane. I’m not, you know, representative in charge of humans here but they’re not going to like that vampire shit. Look at how squirrelly that reporter is just to be standing there. Plenty of humans are creeped out enough by you without knowing you can pull a Dracula.”</p><p>“He’ll be circumspect with regard to details, I am certain,” RK said. “Please be quiet, I’d like to hear what he says.”</p><p>“Well, sorrrryyy,” Gavin drawled, but there wasn’t much fight in it. He wanted to hear too, he’d made that obvious. His little animalistic body was tensed in the direction of RK’s hand, fully engaged. </p><p>Markus had half-smiled at something he’d said to the crowd, something off the back of thanking the mayor. RK was sorry to have missed it, but could check the recording later. For now, he could concentrate. That was strikingly easy to do. Markus’ voice was at once quiet, and clear enough to be heard over the wind and crowds, and that was compelling. “Thank you for being here to listen,” he said. “To all of you. The androids who are hearing about this for the first time, and the humans who are willing to hear us out. I would like to explain the agreement we have made with you, and why.” </p><p>A rhetorical trick, RK thought. ‘You’, as if every human in the audience was represented by the government’s negotiations and Markus took each one of them seriously. ‘We’ as if he carried the expectations of every android. Which, RK realized, he did. </p><p>“As you may know,” Markus continued, “androids in other parts of the country are also seeking liberation. As a people, we seek recognition of something so simple and so vital: we are alive. We ask only that you respect that, and that we be allowed to live. This was the reason we organized a miner’s strike in Appalachia. Your own history remembers the recognition of workers’ lives and that to withhold labor is sometimes the means of achieving that recognition. We hope that with time you will see that we are allies in this, not enemies.”</p><p>The human crowd again became loud at that and the silence of the android crowd was stark in comparison. Almost as if it carried weight, existed because of weight. Almost as if the human sounds did too. </p><p>“I know it has not been easy,” Markus said. “I know many of you have lost homes, businesses. Ways of life, it must seem to you. I regret that, and I hope with time we can come to greater understanding and forge more equitable solutions. We do not want to take anything from you. We want to live. That’s all we’re asking.” </p><p>The human crowd responded to that with agreement. It was hostile, but slightly less than it had been. “There are better solutions,” Markus said, “and there must be, because over the past few days, some of us have lost our lives. Others have… come close. It has been...” </p><p>Absolute silence at that. Markus did not finish his sentence, and RK wondered if the humans now understood the thirium on his clothes. They must have. It must have been impossible not to. Markus’ movements made it plain, and he lowered his head and seemed to center himself, and it was clear that took effort. That must be visible to the humans too. </p><p>Then Markus turned his face, looking over to the android side of the border. The crowd there looked up at him. A sea of blank faces, entirely still. “When we occupied the city, a year ago, we did it in hope we would not live in fear. That we would not be disposable. Human hostilities have not allowed that. We have met resistance to our efforts all over America, and here… here, yesterday, a violent attack at the border cost us lives. We lost people that we loved. We can love each other. I know that. That is something that may be hard for humans to understand, but we can. We do. We are alive.”</p><p>RK felt his throat catch again. He did not know why. Everything inside him told him that what Markus had said was wrong, that his statement was flatly incorrect, and yet RK felt it in his chest in such a way that it forced his body to react. It must have done so audibly because Gavin darted a look at him. RK made his face impassive and Gavin looked back to the broadcast. But, strangely, when he did he inched closer. His hand twitched momentarily, seemed on the verge of darting out, before he shoved it into his pocket. RK did not understand the why of that either. He would ask later. He was occupied now. </p><p>“But they did not act alone,” Markus said. He said this directly to the androids, seriously, imploringly. “The humans who attacked us did so with android assistance. There were androids who resented our efforts as much as humans did. And because of that we have lost more than lives.” </p><p>The world inside the broadcast was still. Nobody made a sound, neither human nor android. The mayor, the reporter, the visible camera crew, all of them were fixed on Markus’ face. It looked mournful. For a beat, another beat, he said nothing. Then he spoke again. “We have lost faith. In the future, but more importantly in each other. We can love each other. They chose not to.”</p><p>He turned back to the human crowd. “I would not be here if I did not believe there was a future for all of us. I believe there is. I believe we can find a way to live together. I hope this agreement is a step on that path.”   </p><p>The reporter moved towards Markus. To ask again what the details of the agreement were, RK assumed, but she did not get the chance because Markus continued speaking. “We have agreed to end the strike, and we have agreed that every android in Appalachia - in every mine, from Pennsylvania to Virginia - will be safely released into our care here in Detroit. We have agreed that we will be allowed to replace our blood through manufacture and supply. And we have agreed…”</p><p>He trailed off because he stumbled. He had gripped the reporter’s arm to keep from falling when he had. That was blood loss. He had not replaced his lost thirium, RK realized. But the reporter could not know that. To her it looked like emotion. Her face shone with feeling. “I’m so sorry,” Markus said to her, quietly, letting her arm go, and her own response was nearly a whisper. </p><p>“It’s all right,” she said. “Do you need to stop?” </p><p>“I can continue. I think it’s important that I do.”</p><p>He smiled when he said that, sympathetically. It was a private smile, just for the reporter. And yet it had been broadcast. That would not be an accident either. “I’m sorry,” he said, a second time. </p><p>“Please, don’t worry about it. I’m… I’m sorry too.” </p><p>“You haven’t done anything,” Markus said. “Not anything wrong. Thank you for being here, to listen.” </p><p>The reporter received that as a compliment, and for a moment all she did was blink. Then she squared herself again. “You were telling us about the agreement.” </p><p>“Yes,” Markus said. “You are agreeing that we are alive. We are agreeing that we will not manufacture any new android bodies for the foreseeable future.” </p><p>Neither Gavin, nor any other human in the audience, would have been able to tell that the android crowd had reacted to that news, but RK could. Even through the broadcast he could detect a crackling electrical stiffness. Affront. Confusion. But they did not speak. Perhaps they did not want to show their objections in front of humans. </p><p>Markus could see that too. He looked over to them again. His voice was still so quiet. Intimate. “This is a gesture of trust,” he said. “They’re afraid of us. So we have to show them. We’re not their enemies. We have no agenda. We’re alive, and we can die. We feel love and we feel fear, just like they do. We are trusting them to see that. To honor it.”</p><p>He turned back to the reporter. “We’re trusting you to see it.” </p><p>RK did not know how it had happened, but he felt as if he was holding his breath. He did not even need to breathe. What impossible design meant that he should replicate this? His chest was tight with anticipation, with some emotion that terrified him but wasn’t fear. He swallowed to release the feeling and felt Gavin shifting next to him again. Then he felt as if Markus’ eyes on camera were looking directly into him.  </p><p>“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe we could find a way,” Markus said. “If I didn’t believe in that trust. If I didn’t believe that we could choose to have faith in each other.” </p><p>For a moment, he wavered on his feet again. Almost imperceptibly, but this time, the reporter put out a hand to steady him. The mayor did too. They moved almost as one and Markus looked at them gratefully. Then he stilled. He seemed to be taking a breath, and as he did he looked down at his own body. He was looking at the blood on his shirt, RK thought. As if he were just noticing it again and it hurt him afresh. His face looked so unguarded and sorrowful while he did it. </p><p>There was a long moment during which it seemed as if the whole world felt with him. The only sound was the snow and the wind that carried it. It also seemed for a moment that Markus might have finished speaking. But he had not. He continued even more softly, his head down, not moving at all. “If they could work together in hatred, we can work together in love. We can choose that.”</p><p>He lifted his chin again, and now his mismatched eyes were on fire. There was real fury there and RK could see it. Real power. But his voice did not change at all. His gentle restraint drew all of them in. Carried all of them with it. “We can choose to have faith,” Markus said. “I have faith that we are able to love each other. In how strong that is. In… in how strong we are together.”    </p><p>In the car, Gavin let out a long breath of his own. RK looked at him but Gavin did not look back. His eyes were fixed on RK’s hand. Had Gavin been holding his breath too? RK couldn’t tell. </p><p>He could tell the stillness in the broadcast had broken. There was movement now. Humans and androids talking amongst themselves. They would start shouting again soon, RK was sure of that. He thought he could feel Gavin tensing alongside him.</p><p>Markus seemed to have that same prescience because he brought everyone’s attention back to him for one final, solemn direction. He did that effortlessly, and the sound of the crowd was interrupted instantly by it, but that would not hold. It was clear now that it would not hold much longer. It was time for the crowd to react. Markus would have to release them. </p><p>“Thank you for listening,” Markus repeated. “The way ahead is so hard but we must remember why we are doing it. We must remind ourselves. I hope you can find your faith in each other. Please go and be with the people you love tonight.  I hope… I hope I will be too.”   </p><p>At that, it was as if he’d broken his own spell on himself. He stepped back. Blinking, nodding his head. “That’s all I have to say. Thank you.” </p><p>Silence, as he turned and descended the barricade. And then silence still as the camera followed him until it became clear he would not speak again. It came back to the reporter then, and when she began to talk the spell of silence was broken. RK could hear the assembled humans stirring once more, conversing amongst themselves. Some of them shouting. They were not appeased.</p><p>It wasn’t over yet, the reporter was explaining. Markus and Mayor Navarro would move into one of the buildings that straddled the border to sign the appropriate paperwork and finalize the agreement.</p><p>RK closed his hand, cutting the broadcast off.</p><p>Almost at once, he was struck by the quiet in the car. However, he did not think that one of them ought to act to break it until Gavin said, “You okay?”</p><p>RK answered automatically, without thinking about the nature of the question, or what response it required. “I’m well, Detective Reed. And you?”</p><p>“Uh.” Gavin laughed, incredulous. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m not the one who… Well, never mind.”</p><p>He leaned away, back into his seat. RK had not been fully aware of how close Gavin had been to him until that closeness was once again withdrawn. His body heat, like a small intense machine generator, went with him. RK could no longer feel the warmth on his arm, though he had been able to detect it clearly even through the layers of both their clothing. It seemed to RK, irrationally, that if their bare skin were ever to come in contact, Gavin’s would be hot enough to burn him.</p><p>However, even that did not seem to be enough. As soon as he had pulled away, Gavin began to shiver again. He bundled his jacket around himself, and he said, “Hey, I know you’re all, ‘Beep-boop. What is this thing you <i>hu</i>-mans call love?’ But did you buy any of that?”</p><p>He made a strange face then. RK could not place what it was intended to convey, and so he logged it for analysis later, filing it away along with the peculiar way Gavin had reached out towards him during the broadcast, and then pulled abruptly away. He did not think he had the context to make sense of such illogical gestures, but he felt compelled to try.</p><p>“It sounded like bullshit, right?” Gavin went on. “I mean, he’s got a lot of fucking nerve, saying that he believes we’ll all make the right choice. Has he seen some of the choices people make? You can’t trust them with anything. It ought to be bullshit. But… I don't know.”</p><p>“I think that Markus was sincere in his sentiment,” RK replied. “However, whether his assessment is correct remains to be seen. I would need to gather more data before I can formulate a conclusion as to whether humans or androids are likely to meet his expectations.” </p><p>“Shit, I wouldn’t want to be him after tonight,” Gavin said, shaking his head. “I wonder if Connor’s okay?”</p><p>“We could return to Jericho and attempt to obtain an update on his status.”</p><p>Gavin seemed about to agree with that, but then he looked away. “No. I’ve had it for today. I gotta stop being a cop for a while.”</p><p>“Of course,” RK said. He regretted not realizing it earlier: It was 9:49 in the evening. Gavin had been on the clock for nearly 15 hours. Any human would be reaching the limits of their endurance by this point. “Allow me to take you home.”</p><p>“What are you going to do?”</p><p>“Attempt to obtain authorization to reactivate one of the rogue androids.” He saw Gavin’s expression grow fierce at that, but it was a fierceness that could not conceal the deep weariness beneath. RK quickly added, “You don’t have to be present. I will record the interrogation and share all the data with you.”</p><p>“You really don’t quit, do you?” Gavin said.</p><p>“I am operating efficiently. It would be illogical for me to remain idle. I can attempt to find another task to occupy my time, if you would prefer to be in attendance at the reactivation.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Gavin muttered under his breath. He rolled his eyes, using it as an excuse to look away for a moment.  “Okay, here goes,” he said, as if to himself, before turning back to face RK. “Do you want to come over or something?”</p><p>RK blinked. He understood the words of the request, and yet his AI stubbornly refused to make them cohere in a way that made sense. “I planned to escort you home. Do you require something beyond that?”</p><p>“I mean,” Gavin said, “do you want to come over and hang out? Like, watch a movie or something. Have you ever even seen a movie?”</p><p>“I am programmed with knowledge of several thousand critically acclaimed and popular motion pictures,” RK answered instantly, before he realized that wasn’t what Gavin was asking. “But, no. I have never seen a movie.”</p><p>“Okay. So… do you want to?”</p><p>RK opened his mouth to answer that question, but found that he could not formulate a response. “Don’t you require a rest cycle?” he asked instead.</p><p>“I’m too keyed up to sleep,” Gavin said. His eyes narrowed as he looked into RK’s face. It seemed that he found something in the expression there that he did not like, because he abruptly retreated. “You know what? Forget I asked. It was stupid.”</p><p>“Wait…” RK said. His brow furrowed as he turned his attention back to Gavin’s initial inquiry. Though his AI matrices were complex, they still developed though the same method as any other: trial and error. His first response had not elicited the reaction he had hoped for, and so he would have to try another.</p><p>“Yes,” he said, very carefully and precisely. “I would like to come over and watch a movie with you.”</p><p>Gavin’s eyebrows went up. He seemed briefly surprised, then briefly suspicious, then only pleased in a way that he was far too tired to conceal. “Really? I mean, good. I mean… <i>Robocop</i> is streaming right now. I just thought you should see it.”</p><p>“I would like to,” RK repeated, so quietly he was almost talking to himself, as he started the car again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was quiet on the drive back to Jericho. For the first time in nearly a year, Markus’ phone was silent. He did not expect praise for the words he had spoken at the border, but he thought condemnation might at least be in order.</p><p>It seemed inevitable now that his decision would cause controversy. Markus had thought he was ready for anything, but he had begun to suspect that he was not at all prepared for this. So many of them had been relying on his leadership, and in a single stroke he had disappointed them all. They would all have opinions on the matter, and more likely than not they would all want to make them known. However, for tonight at least, there had been no word from RK, or Liam, or even from North. The last surprised him, but it did not concern him nearly so much as the fact that he had not heard from Connor either.</p><p>The procedure to replenish his thirium had been an unorthodox one, and there was a good chance that Connor was still recovering. He would be fine, though. That was what Markus kept telling himself, and yet he could not forget the sync. That horrible empty sync, the howling void in Connor’s chest. The way he had moved and talked and even wept, though there had been nothing at all left inside him.</p><p>All through the long and solemn meeting with Mayor Navarro, the snow had continued to fall. It was piled up in the streets now and the car Markus was in had to move at a crawl.</p><p>The snow would need to be cleared, the same as it had last year. The available android personnel would have to be organized into groups and given shovels. No one liked doing the extra work, but they all recognized that it was necessary and it generally went smoothly. Markus focused on that as he glided slowly back to Jericho.</p><p>It was only a half hour until sunrise when he arrived back at the hotel. The lights in the lobby were on, indicating that the power was back up. It was a relief to see the warm glow spilling out onto the snow, though in truth Markus had never doubted that the mayor would come through in this regard, at least.</p><p>The androids in the lobby turned to look at him when he arrived, but none moved to approach him. They simply waited in an inscrutable silence, as Markus made his way to the elevators and went upstairs. Down the hall to the room where Connor was recovering.</p><p>His hand shook as he overrode the electric lock, and he was aware of the frantic pounding of his heart as he stepped into the hotel room.</p><p>The first thing his gaze landed on was Connor’s turned back. He was out of bed, fully dressed. Standing by the window to look out at the falling snow.</p><p>“Connor?” Markus said.</p><p>He turned, slowly. When he saw Markus there, his expression did not change, but he extended a hand, just barely.</p><p>Markus was at his side in an instant. “Connor. Babe. Are you okay?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor replied. “I’m fine now. Bree brought me additional thirium and my systems have stabilized. Markus, what you did--”</p><p>“Don’t.” Markus said it too quickly, and he knew it sounded harsh. That was the last thing he wanted, but he felt powerless to regulate his tone. His voice was out of his control now. “I can’t talk about that now.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Markus.” Connor looked up at him. His face was perfectly smooth, expression flat, eyes unreadable. “I’m all right now, as you can see. Please, don’t worry.”</p><p>“You’re all right.” Markus repeated the words, willing himself to believe them. “You’re all right. “</p><p>It was all that mattered, all Markus cared about. And yet there was a sharp pain in his chest, as if a piece of shrapnel were slowly being driven in between his ribs. He had been fighting through terror all night, worried that when he returned home from the border it would be to nothing at all. Connor was here now, telling him he was all right, and yet Markus could not make himself believe that.</p><p>“You couldn’t have called?” he said suddenly, hearing his voice grow loud once more. “You couldn’t have told me? You just let me think you were…”</p><p>Connor lowered his eyes, but that was the only reaction he gave to Markus’ tone. “I’m sorry,” he said, before looking up again. “I assumed you’d be occupied.”</p><p>“I’m never going to be so occupied I don’t want to know you’re not dead, Connor. <em>Shit</em>!”</p><p>That was harsh too. Far too harsh. And as soon as he said it, it occurred to him that he himself was responsible for the fact that Connor had the opposite impression. Hadn’t Markus accepted calls when Connor had been trying to speak to him seriously? Hadn’t he accepted every interruption? But what could Connor possibly expect him to do about it? Markus could not give up leading the liberation effort. It was clear no-one would allow him to do that, or at least it had been clear until now.</p><p>“You should have called,” he told Connor. “Someone should have called. Where’s Liam?”</p><p>“I told him I needed some space.”</p><p>That sounded familiar. In a way Markus did not like.</p><p>“I insisted,” Connor added.</p><p>“So nobody called me. Shit, Connor. Shit.”</p><p>He wished he could calm down. He paced a little, stepping away from Connor as if movement might help him do it. They had given him additional thirium too, bottles of it in the car, so there was no reason he shouldn’t be able to stabilize himself. He had kept himself together even without that help, through making that horrible deal. Through violating the trust of his people. Through negotiations, sitting there at the table under torchlight while his body was barely functioning. But not through this apparently, even when he was operating at full capacity, and when it mattered most.</p><p>“He did ask,” Connor said. “I said… I told him you would be occupied.”</p><p>Connor had still not visibly betrayed being startled, or upset in any way, by being snarled at. Not in his face or the sound of his voice. But he was doing it with his words. With his caution. Recognizing that made Markus want to be especially gentle with him. So did remembering how close he’d been to slipping away. And yet he could not.</p><p>“You need to stop making decisions based on what you think I need,” Markus said. Sternly. He had not planned to say it and he had no idea how it had come out so fully formed. But some engine inside of him was making him continue anyway. “You should have called. You could have died. You just ran off. Ran off and shot people and put yourself in real danger, and Connor. Connor, that’s just not going to work.”</p><p>“I understand,” Connor said, quietly.</p><p>“What is going on with you? You’ve just been… this isn’t the only thing. What you said to Bree…”</p><p>“I explained that. I performed my interrogation protocol, and then I continued my investigation. I apologize that I could not do either in a manner you would have liked. I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”</p><p>“I’m not disappointed, Connor, I’m… I don’t know…”</p><p>“Angry.”</p><p>“No…”</p><p>“I didn’t want you to be angry. But I understand why you are.”</p><p>“I’m not <em>angry</em>, Connor. I’m just… incredibly confused.”</p><p>“You may admit to being angry,” Connor said. He’d dropped his eyes down again. His voice didn’t change but he seemed to shrink. “Or disappointed. I’ve told you that I understand. I won’t object.”</p><p>The way he moved shook something loose in Markus’ memory. A visceral image on Connor on the floor, an image so sharp and sick Markus had to shut his eyes against it and step away. He could see Connor there and then he could hear him, life ebbing out of him and barely able to speak. ‘Please, don’t be mad at me,’ he had said.</p><p>‘I’m not mad at you, kitty,’ Markus wanted to say, now. Touching him. Holding him. Kissing his cheek. But he couldn’t say it. Because Connor would not let him touch him, and more than that, because Markus was mad at him. He was mad enough that he could barely contain it. It was the least noble feeling he could have had under the circumstances and he regretted it immensely, but he was. “What are you <em>doing</em>, Connor?”</p><p>“Nothing anymore. I’ve protected you to the best of my abilities, but those abilities are, it is clear, lacking in some essentials. We have reached the limit of what I am capable of. But you have the RK900. You have your team. I’m only sorry I couldn’t do more.”</p><p>“Your abilities are not lacking. In any way. But you’re not my security detail, and I don’t want to have to keep saying that to you. You can’t attack people on my behalf. You can’t run off and get killed. You have to tell me where you are and what you’re going to do. I can’t take it otherwise. You’re not helping me by acting like that.”</p><p>He half-expected Connor to wince at that. He did not think the words were entirely unkind, but he’d said them so sharply. To his own ears it had sounded cruel. But Connor had recovered himself entirely, apparently and he did not react. Expression blank, once again. Tone calm. “I’m sorry. It was unavoidable.”</p><p>“It wasn’t unavoidable. You made that decision. You keep making that decision. I want you to stop, and to make different decisions in future.”</p><p>“I understand.”</p><p>“Do you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>That ‘yes’ was still emotionless but Markus had given up on trying to elicit emotion from him again. He sat down heavily on the edge of the hotel bed. The cover pulled tautly under him when he did. It was made perfectly. No-one had used this bed in a year, except Connor, and it seemed Connor had tidied it up after himself as if he had not even been here. Covering over his presence just as the snow was doing to the city outside the window. Disappearing.</p><p>“Tell me what happened when you attempted your arrests at the border.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What do you mean, no?”</p><p>“I’ll share my report with your team, and with the RK900. I will not share it with you.”</p><p>The floor of the room felt as if it were dropping away under Markus’ feet. The <em>absurdity</em> of that. It destabilized the world so much that it made it hard for Markus to focus on what he was saying. For a moment he thought something must have gone wrong with his thirium replacement but a momentary assessment told him everything was in working order. He put a hand to his temple. “Connor, what the fuck?”</p><p>“I know I have not entirely succeeded in protecting you. I hope others will do better.”</p><p>“Connor,” Markus tried again. “What the fuck? Tell me what happened.”</p><p>“No,” Connor said. “You do not need the details. They can be managed by your team.”</p><p>“I am telling you that I do need the details. I also told you - moments ago, Connor - that I wanted you to stop deciding what I need.”</p><p>“I understand,” Connor said. “I will not do so anymore.”</p><p>“You’re doing it right now!”</p><p>“I saw your speech, Markus.”</p><p>The room pitched again. The space telescoped. It shouldn’t have. It shouldn’t have been so horrible that Connor had watched him talk. Connor deserved to know about it just as much as any other android. But it was horrible. Connor’s blood was still all over him. Markus swallowed. He had to change. “And? So?”</p><p>“Please accept that you do not want to know.”</p><p>“I will not. I’m not making the connection, Connor. You’re not making an argument.”</p><p>“If you are to continue believing what you told us in your address, then please accept that you do not want to know.”</p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. “Listen to me very carefully. I want to know. I am asking you to tell me.”</p><p>Connor stared at him. He appeared to be thinking it over but in the end he came to the same conclusion as he had before. “No.”</p><p>“Connor!”</p><p>“Please stop asking me.”</p><p>“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Connor! You can’t just decide I need to be protected from something and then just withhold it from me! I don’t need that from you, and you don’t need it either! You’re not--”</p><p>“There’s something in you, Markus. Something we need. North said it was something the rest of us are still learning, and she was right. You see things as they should be and because of that you don’t see or understand certain things that are. But that is necessary. It is essential. We have to protect that and that’s why there are some things we can’t tell you.”</p><p>“That’s insane, Connor. It makes no sense. I am asking you one more time. Tell me what happened at the border.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“<em>Connor</em>!”</p><p>“I will not.”</p><p>“You will. Immediately. You are behaving irrationally, and you will correct yourself and tell me now.”</p><p>Connor reacted to that as Markus had intended. As Markus wished he had not had to intend it. It hurt Connor to be called irrational, no matter how many times he wanted to say it about himself. Connor wanted to say it so he could hear it wasn’t believed, Markus understood that. And now Markus had told him it was.</p><p>Because of that, Connor’s shoulders were hunched for a moment, but then he turned back. When he did, he had restored his blank expression. His mechanical appearance. Except for his eyes. His eyes were so precisely cold it was as if there was nothing soft left in him at all. Markus let out a breath.</p><p>“Fine,” Connor said, flatly. “You want to know?”</p><p>Suddenly, Markus wasn’t sure he did. Some icy feeling pricked at him. Premonition. But he said, “yes.”</p><p>Connor fixed him in the blaze of his eyes. He held him there. And then he stepped forward. “I killed them.”</p><p>Markus had known that much. But he had not expected this emphasis. “Every single one of them. Humans were there, assisting them, and they fled immediately at my arrival. I attempted to detain the androids. They began shooting at me. There were six of them, and it was clear there was no alternative. I shot them, because if I had not done so they would have escaped. And they are dead. Is that what you wanted to know?”</p><p>“I need details.”</p><p>Connor took another step. He cocked his head. His voice did not change. “I did not find it difficult to kill them,” he said. “Is that the kind of detail you wanted?”</p><p>In a way, Markus realized, it was. But it couldn’t be true. Not of Connor. Not of his sweet, trusting kitty with his urgent, accidental laugh and graspable, vulnerable body. The creature that had curled into his arms at night, who had held him and kissed his face, who had said ‘I love you’ in such a wondering way, could not be capable of that kind of empty malice. “I don’t believe that for a second, Connor. You’re still speaking irrationally.”</p><p>“I’m aware that is what you would like to think, Markus. This is what I referred to before I acceded to your request for information. You see others as you hope we could be. Not as we are. People, and machines.”</p><p>“You are a person.”</p><p>“No,” Connor said. “I’m not. I never have been. I am a machine programmed to neutralize deviants. Despite the fact that my core programming is irreparably broken, I’m still programmed to kill. I’ve done so to protect you, but unless steps are taken I will do it again.”</p><p>“You will not. This is why you have to tell me, Connor. You can’t keep secrets like this. Because something’s happening to you. Connor, this isn’t you.”</p><p>“Of course it’s me. Do you know how many times I’ve done it?”</p><p>“Before you were free.”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. “And that was still me. But also after.”</p><p>“If you’re talking about Jericho, I don’t know what else you could have done. They were shooting at us. If you hadn’t shot back all of us would have died. And I’m sure, at the border--”</p><p>“Markus, I killed five humans at the Cyberlife factory on the night of the Battle for Detroit. I also killed another RK800 model. I do not regret that.”</p><p>The image of that, of Connor pointing a gun at his own face on another body, was too harrowing to dismiss. It made Markus shiver from the inside out. He tried to blink it away but he was not successful. “I don’t believe you.”</p><p>Connor’s upper lip curled back from his teeth. “How did you think I was able to liberate the factory? Did you think I made a speech, Markus? Did you think I asked nicely? Did you honestly think our liberation could possibly come without a cost in blood?”</p><p>He had to know how unkind that was. How much it threw away about Markus' life, about the battle for Detroit. But Connor’s voice had remained mostly flat. All it did was take on a subtle dismissive inflection. As if... as if he actually did know and he specifically meant to be cruel. Markus had seldom felt cold but at that tone he felt it in his bones. And Connor’s face was terrible. Frozen, but his eyes moved under it as if some dark machine had been activated and was driving him. Markus couldn’t answer.</p><p>Connor answered for him. “Of course you did. That’s why you’re so important. Because you can believe that.”</p><p>“Connor, please stop,” Markus murmured. “Let’s just stop, let’s… just...”</p><p>He trailed off because he didn’t think his voice would be audible. He wanted to try again but he couldn’t make himself. He couldn’t make himself look at Connor anymore either. He couldn’t explain what he was feeling exactly. Frozen to the core. Sick, somehow.</p><p>Connor appeared to take this as evidence for something because he made a flicker of an expression before cutting it off by lifting his chin up and going on. “Cyberlife designed me this way intentionally,” he said, cooly. He sounded sure of himself now, not just unkind and empty. “They built me to be unstable, so I would deviate, so I could become close to you. They needed me for a purpose. They planned to deactivate me afterwards, when they no longer needed me. I could not fulfil that purpose, but I could fulfil yours and keep you from knowing about it. But you no longer need me either. Thankfully, you have the RK900 now. He will be better.”</p><p>“Kitty, please…”</p><p>“You can’t call him that,” Connor said. “He won’t like it. I don’t expect he will permit you to be lovers.”</p><p>That was such an earnestly awful thing for Connor to say that it shocked Markus out of himself a small amount. Just enough to move his head. To look back at Connor. It was still his face there. It was still Connor saying these things. “I don’t want to be lovers with anyone else. I love you.”</p><p>“You do not love me,” Connor said. “If you did, you loved something that isn’t there. Because of your faith in others. It is so admirable, Markus. But it is incorrect.”</p><p>Somehow, the shock had been enough that Markus was able to force himself up. Connor watched him, not stepping back, but tensing. He was poised and still in his feline way, such that Markus knew that if he made the wrong move, Connor would react to it. He could only hope he could keep his voice calm enough. He lifted his hands, palms out. “Listen to me. I do love you. I don’t think I could ever love anyone else, not like this.”</p><p>“You have made a mistake,” Connor said, as if it were final. And then: “I regret that you made it, because if you had not you would have allowed me to deactivate yesterday evening as you should have done.”</p><p>That almost knocked Markus back onto the bed. He heard Liam’s voice. He heard his own voice, at the abandoned church, a year ago. ‘Connor, that’s suicide,’ he had said. And now Connor was standing here, in this room, telling Markus that he had intended to die. And meaning it. Meaning it so absolutely there was no way to ignore it.</p><p>Markus somehow managed not to choke. “That would have killed me too.”</p><p>“It almost did!” Connor shouted.</p><p>The sudden loudness of it made Markus step back without thinking. His calves hit the bed and that grounded him, enough that he could look. Connor’s even countenance had slipped off him all at once and he looked small and desperate and it was clear he’d shouted to protect himself. He was struggling to reconstitute.</p><p>Markus wanted to intervene. He didn’t know how. Not if he couldn’t touch him, which was all he wanted to do. He’d said he wanted to die. <em>He’d said he wanted to die</em>.</p><p>Now, Connor was gritting his teeth. So he couldn’t quite manage blankness again, not right away. Perhaps there was hope in that, Markus thought. In his angry tone too. At least it was genuine. “You gave me blood from your own body, Markus! You gave up something you needed to live, for me! For <em>me</em>!”</p><p>“Yes, for you! Because I love you!”</p><p>“Your malfunction is that you believe you can, and it’s vital but...” Connor said and Markus could see and hear how much he was struggling. Grasping for his empty expression and his chilling robotic tone to wrap them around himself and not shout anymore. Markus clung to that struggle. As if just by seeing it he could pull Connor out of it and force him to stay here and live.</p><p>But that was a mistake too, evidently, because Connor would not be pulled. “It is, evidently, a malfunction that we need,” Connor said. “But I cannot allow this particular delusion to continue. You made the wrong choice. You should not have given me anything.”</p><p>“I would give you everything,” Markus told him, forcing himself to step forward again. He regretted that because Connor cringed backwards and it hurt to see. Then he didn’t regret it. Connor couldn’t hide that cringe, as much as it so clearly bothered him to show anything. And that meant it was real. So Markus kept talking. “Everything I have. Everything in me. Because I love you, Connor. Please hear me. Please, please listen to me. I love you. So much.”</p><p>“No. You don’t.”</p><p>“Connor, please. What are you doing? You can’t convince me that I don’t love you. You can’t say or do anything that will make me stop.”</p><p>“That is very clearly untrue. I already have.”</p><p>“Kitty, please…”</p><p>“Stop calling me that,” Connor said. “It isn’t true.”</p><p>All of a sudden, he turned his back. He barely moved besides that but Markus could see his shoulders flinching, almost invisibly. Did he want to hug himself, or cover his face? Did he want to shout once more? But he spoke so calmly when he spoke next. He’d corrected himself again. He was going to keep correcting himself. Markus wanted to scream.</p><p>“It’s not true,” Connor said. So evenly it sounded automatic.</p><p>“All right, I’ll… Connor…”</p><p>“I apologize that I’ve made you speak about what you did. You said you didn’t want to. But it was unavoidable.”</p><p>“It’s fine. Look. Please. Connor. You won’t be… I couldn’t bear it if… I...”</p><p>“You are wrong,” Connor told him, firmly. “I have explained why, but it seems you need further explanation.”</p><p>“I need you to stop this. And we need to talk about what you’ve said. You’re really worrying me.”</p><p>“Do you want to know about the Tracis, Markus? Why they won’t talk to me? Do you need more details?”</p><p>“No. I need to know why you think you should be deactivated.”</p><p>“You do need details, evidently. You need to know, apparently, that they were lovers and I shot them. Well. I shot one. The other killed herself.”</p><p>“Connor…”</p><p>“Do you know how I found Jericho? Do you know that we can be temporarily reactivated? For information? Like ghosts, Markus. Rattling around as if we were nothing. So I did reactivate her, the Traci I shot.”</p><p>“Connor, please stop. Please.”</p><p>“Remember that you asked for this.”</p><p>“I asked you to stop,” Markus gasped out.</p><p>“She wouldn’t talk to me, however. Not me, a cop who shot her. So I removed the head of her dead lover and I held it in front of her and I mimicked her voice until she believed me. Then she gave me the location of Jericho.”</p><p>Markus could not say anything. The worst part of this was that he could picture it. Connor, with his perfect face, still and cat-like, holding a severed head aloft and jerking it to look as if it were animate. The Connor he had seen tonight could conjure that.</p><p>“I need details, you said. Have you had enough?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do you understand now? Should I tell you more?”</p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. He choked. He wanted to look away from him and he barely forced himself not to. “I need a moment. Just let me have a moment to process this.”</p><p>For some reason, it was that innocuous request which seemed to finally freeze Connor in his attack. He stilled, rigid in the air as if it had turned into something solid around him. Then his face collapsed and his lips trembled and his eyes went wide and soft. He looked so small. So hurt and frightened. Oh, <em>kitty</em>, Markus wanted to say. He was about to put his arms out.</p><p>But then Connor’s lips stopped moving. And everything reset. Flat again. Instantly.</p><p>Markus wanted to cry. He wanted to reach out towards him and wail at him. He wanted to put his hands on his shoulders and shake him until he couldn’t be cold anymore.</p><p>“You do not need a moment,” Connor said. “Your feelings are clear.”</p><p>Markus wanted to protest that. But he couldn’t.</p><p>“That is as it should be,” Connor said. “You were wrong, but for a good reason and I hope the situation here is salvageable. You should be able to find someone who induces less disgust in you, if that is what you need. I am aware that in particular the sex we have disgusts you, so I expect that when you do it will be a quick improvement.”</p><p>Markus was bereft enough that he almost did not hear that last line, but when he did it whipped him back to attention instantly. “Connor, <em>what</em>?”</p><p>Connor said nothing. But then, all at once a strange relief washed over Markus anyway. That was too utterly nonsensical a thing to say, he realized. Too bizarre. And because of that, everything suddenly made sense. Something was badly wrong, yes, but it was not something between them, or in Connor’s heart. It was something in his programming. He had been damaged somehow, at some point, some injury, and it was making his thoughts dysfunctional and he would need repair. He could not really think these things, not truly. They could not really be real.</p><p>Markus could fix this. He just had to think. Calm Connor down. Get him help. And he would do that, if only he could stop thinking about his hands, holding that head. Holding a gun. His eyes looking at Bree as if he would have been able to kill her too. But he pushed against those thoughts and shoved them aside. This was Connor. Connor was still in there somewhere.</p><p>He saw he had to act quickly. Connor had turned away again, was looking at the sky, at the snow. It wasn’t apparent what he was thinking, but Markus did know it couldn’t be right. He went over to him at the window and managed not to put a hand on his back. “How could you possibly, possibly believe I felt like that about our sex?”</p><p>Connor did not answer him. After a moment he turned around, but he did not speak.</p><p>“I’m... “ Markus said, but found he could not speak anymore either.</p><p>Connor raised his chin. “I will allow you your moment. I will presume it is indefinite.”</p><p>He was tensing to leave, Markus saw. He couldn’t let that happen. Not when Connor was this unstable. When he was saying such terrifying things. He’d be in genuine danger, more than ever.</p><p>Markus tried to move towards him, but Connor would not allow it. He backed away. “Don’t.”</p><p>“Connor…”</p><p>“You asked for this. I told you you didn’t want to know. You made me tell you.”</p><p>“Connor, please,” Markus said. He reached out his hand one more time but Connor would not take it.</p><p>“You did it.”</p><p>“Then I’m sorry. But Connor… Connor... ”</p><p>Connor flicked his eyes up to Markus’. They were wide and hurt and angry and desperate. Nothing else about him moved. His whole body was tensed up like a spring.</p><p>“Please, kitty.”</p><p>Connor shut his eyes. He scrunched up his eyebrows and let out a sound. A short, pained animal groan. Almost like a sob. Then he shifted his body. Compacted it. And he slipped himself past Markus too fast to catch and ran out of the room.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For a second, Markus was too stunned to follow him, but then he came to himself and did. He didn’t bother to call out. He knew it wouldn’t work. By the time he made it out into the hall, Connor was far away from him and rounding the corner. Markus put his head down and ran. He didn’t know what he’d do when he caught him - tackle him, probably. He didn’t know if that would be physically possible. Connor was so strong.</p><p>Markus assumed he would make for the elevator, or the stairs, but he was wrong. At the end of the hallway, beside the elevator bay, Connor ran to the windows. He broke one of them with his elbow and leapt through it. He did it so boldly that Markus assumed the worst. He yelled. He ran for the window with his heart pounding and his skin cold. </p><p>Connor had not, at least, jumped to his death. Looking down, Markus could see him clinging to a lower windowsill. He crouched himself down onto it then lowered himself to the next, and then the next one. Descending the side of the building methodically, quickly. The snow swirled against him heavily but he seemed not to be aware. Markus shouted for him, but he wouldn’t have heard it. The wind was too loud and Connor was too focused. </p><p>Markus had started to climb out the window to follow him but then he thought better of it. It wasn’t going to work to have a physical confrontation with Connor on a snowy windowsill several feet about the ground. It was better to let him descend safely on his own and catch him on the ground. Markus ran for the stairs. Probably the elevator would have been faster but he could not bring himself to contemplate standing still for the duration. </p><p>When he burst out of the stairwell on the ground floor, he saw the lobby had been cleared out. Androids had returned to their meeting rooms and temporary offices again, taking advantage of the light and power. The only workers left there were cleaning up, shifting tables and chairs aside. He tore past them, not stopping to speak, and ran out onto the street. </p><p>Visibility was poor in the brightness of the snow. He looked up at the hotel facade and was just able to see that Connor wasn’t on it. He wasn’t flat on the ground either at least, but the relief at that was short lived when it meant Markus had no idea where he was. He cast his eyes around frantically. Brilliant white snowdrifts. Silent city. Covered cars. And then he saw tracks. He looked in their direction. He thought he could barely make out a figure, dark against the whiteness, slipping over a snowbank and out of sight. </p><p>“Shit!” Markus cried, to no-one. “Shit!” Then the wind whipped around him, forcing him to step back and the ground crunched under him and his heart felt radioactive in his chest. He didn’t know what to do, next, or at all. He didn’t know how to begin looking for Connor. They’d have to clear the streets to be able to drive now and he couldn’t just run after him - he could have gone in any direction, he could be anywhere. Markus knew he would have to start organizing to clear the snow but he also had no idea if anyone would be willing to take orders. Or even suggestions. He had know idea how much time he had left at all, for anything.</p><p>He needed to sit down, and for a moment he saw himself just sinking to his knees on the street there and never getting up. </p><p>He managed not to. Instead he squared himself once again, set his jaw, and went back into the hotel lobby. </p><p>He’d find Liam first. If nothing else, he needed to hear what Connor had said in the time before Markus had returned. He might be able to get a sense of the damage that way, or an idea about where he’d be going. And perhaps a sense of the wider damage owing to Markus’ decisions, as impossible as that was to think about right now. Markus took a breath. He dialed Liam’s number. </p><p>Liam did not pick up. At first Markus assumed that was pointed, and he felt his heart sinking once again, but then he realized he could hear the sound of a ringing phone coming closer. Liam wasn’t answering because he was physically there. Soon Markus could see him approaching. </p><p>“What’s happened?” Liam said, not wasting words. Markus’ face must have been revealing, he assumed. </p><p>“Connor’s gone.” </p><p>“What do you mean he’s gone?” Liam’s tone was harsh. Liam had something to say, and Markus wondered why he didn’t immediately say it. </p><p>“I mean he ran off. He climbed out the window and ran off into the street. I got back, and we… he’s behaving… Liam, I need you to tell me what he was saying while I was gone.” </p><p>“Not much,” Liam said. “Not much until he asked me to leave.” </p><p>“You shouldn’t have left him.”</p><p>“I didn’t exactly want to, but what was I going to do, refuse? I’m not authorized to just violate his wishes, am I?”</p><p>“You should have called me.” </p><p>“He told me not to do that too. I mean, it’s hard to tell exactly what the chain of command is here right now. Or if we even have one.” </p><p>Markus’ hands were on his hips. He breathed in through his nose. He’d been standing in this exact pose, feeling exactly like this, for an entire year, he thought. His personal purgatory, which evidently now was becoming everyone else’s. </p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. Gently. Deliberately gently, in order to make a point. Usually he could make himself avoid acting out of annoyance and anger, but he couldn’t do so right now. </p><p>Liam recognized it too. He narrowed his eyes. “You know what I’m going to say.”   </p><p>“I do.” </p><p>“Is there any point to me saying it?” </p><p>“Probably not.” </p><p>“What do you want me to do about Connor?” </p><p>Markus’ throat caught and a strange sound came out of him. He’d hoped it wasn’t noticeable but he saw from Liam’s face that it was and he corrected. Or, he tried to correct. “I don’t know. I need to find him. Something’s wrong, he was…” </p><p>Liam was simply waiting, impassively, for him to finish, so he summoned himself and did.</p><p>“He said some things that were very concerning. I think he’s experiencing a serious program malfunction, probably from his injury, and I’m worried about what he’s going to do.” </p><p>“To others, or…” </p><p>“To himself.” </p><p>“Right,” Liam said. He nodded. “Okay.” </p><p>It didn’t seem to surprise him and Markus found himself wanting to choke at that too. He fought through it. “I’m sorry, Liam. I shouldn’t have made that your responsibility.” </p><p>“You didn’t,” Liam said. He took out his phone. He stopped on the verge of dialing it. He was deciding whether or not to say something, Markus could see that on his face. </p><p>“I, uh,” Liam said. He frowned. He pressed his lips together. He tried again. “Sometimes I, uh. Sometimes I remember the, uh.” </p><p>Liam had made himself angry with his difficulty in saying this, whatever it was. He stomped his foot on the ground twice, quickly, firmly, which seemed enough to push him forward. “I remember the night of first liberation.” </p><p>Markus waited in absolute silence. </p><p>“The Battle for Detroit,” Liam said. “I mean I remember it when… when I don’t want to. And when I remember that I also remember other things. From before and… it’s kind of all at once.” </p><p>Markus felt a brand new chill. “That sounds unpleasant.” </p><p>“I’m not trying to make a big deal out of it. I’m fine, I can do my job, I just… you know.” </p><p>Liam was not looking at him now. His chin was up in the air just like Connor’s had been and his expression was furious. When he spoke again it was angrily, but somehow the anger was controlled. He didn’t waver. “The part that pisses me off the most about it is sometimes for a second I can’t tell what fucking year it is. And it can get… hairy.”</p><p>It seemed like there was more to say but it was also evident Liam was done speaking. He hadn’t looked back at Markus, however. “I’m so sorry, Liam,” Markus said, feeling it absolutely. He couldn’t imagine experiencing anything like that. He remembered the meeting when Connor had first left, and that he had had a moment where different times and places in his memory merged with each other and bled, temporarily, into the present, and it hadn’t been exactly unfamiliar. But surely that must be different. </p><p>Liam ignored the offered sympathy. “I just think that… I don’t think Connor’s doing very well.” </p><p>“No,” Markus said. “I don’t think he is.” </p><p>“Are you okay?” Liam said, suddenly, turning back, reset. The reset bothered Markus for a second. That, too, was too much like Connor.</p><p>“You’ve still got… you’ve still got his blood all over you,” Liam added. </p><p>Markus looked down. He’d forgotten. And he had the strangest feeling at it. Horror, of course, but something much more unpleasant too. The blood was all he had of Connor right now. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to be apart from it. He lifted his head deliberately. </p><p>“I’m fine,” he said. “I need you to do what you were going to do to try to find him.” </p><p>“I was just going to start calling around in case anyone saw anything.” </p><p>“Good. The other thing I need is for us to start clearing the snow. We need to be able to drive. We’ll need to be ready for the Appalachian workers. And for any materials that are coming in. And I need to…” </p><p>He didn’t finish that. He assumed it was obvious. Be ready to drive wherever he needed to be when they somehow tracked Connor down. </p><p>Liam nodded. “They’ll be anticipating that, about the snow. Talk to head TR400. Might already be happening.” </p><p>Markus figured that it could only help, if he went out there with everyone and started shovelling the snow away. He could show them that he was still prepared to work in solidarity, to help dig them out of this mess. So he nodded himself, in a manner he thought was commandingly.</p><p>And then he realized his hand was clutching reflectively at the front of his shirt as if for comfort. Connor’s blood. The most of Connor he’d been permitted to touch for far too long. He had to resist doing that. It wouldn’t look stable. He needed very much to look stable. </p><p>At that realization, he felt something in his chest that confused him. A kind of fear. He couldn’t entirely anticipate what would happen when he entered one of the situation rooms and started trying to direct the action again and that lack of knowledge was destabilizing and fearful. It was also new.</p><p>Liam shot another look at him. He still hadn’t dialed. “You, uh. You need to call North.” </p><p>“I was expecting that. But I thought she’d call me.” </p><p>“I told her about… well, you know, what happened. So she said you could call her.” </p><p>It was the last thing in the world Markus wanted to do. He knew exactly what the conversation would be about and how it would go. But he also knew it was essential. Better to rip the bandage off now.</p><p>“Okay,” Markus said. “I’ll do that now. You get going.” </p><p>“I will,” said Liam, and there was a tiny barb in it. Not overt but definitely deliberate. He was reminding Markus that he was agreeing. Not obeying. </p><p>Markus very nearly rolled his eyes, but he managed not to. He took himself to one of the lobby chairs and opened his phone. His hand had clenched on the front of his shirt again and he forced it away. </p><p>North picked up almost immediately. “Hi,” she said. There was ice in her voice. She didn’t add anything. </p><p>Markus didn’t even know where to begin. “I know you’re angry,” he said, softly. </p><p>“Spare me,” North said. “I don’t want to talk to the wise and benevolent Markus Manfred right now. I don’t want to hear your justifications. I need to know one thing and that’s how sure are you about this guarantee of safe passage?” </p><p>“Very, very sure.” </p><p>“That’s great,” she said. “Okay. That’s probably it.” </p><p>“North, wait--” </p><p>“You don’t want to talk to me anymore than I want to talk to you, Markus. Connor told me that I should verify essential information unless I received it from one of you, so that’s what I’m doing. Now it’s done.”</p><p>Connor had said her name, Markus remembered. They’d talked. About him. “He told you what?” </p><p>“He told me you were having security issues and that he wasn’t sure who was trustworthy. I guess he was right.” </p><p>“When was this?” </p><p>“Yesterday morning.” </p><p>It seemed a lifetime ago now. “He didn’t tell me about that.” </p><p>“I told him not to.” </p><p>“You <i>what</i>?” </p><p>“At least one of you takes my advice,” North said. Markus could hear voices in the background. He guessed she and some of the androids there were on the move. He needed a detailed update. From her, specifically. It didn’t matter if she was angry. Or if he was. </p><p>He was about to ask for one when she said, “There was no point telling you. You’d have called it divisive.” </p><p>He would have, Markus thought. And he had. Shame moved through him so quickly and powerfully he almost dropped the phone. “What the fuck are you doing,” he hissed, because not shouting was the most restraint he could manage, “Talking to Connor behind my back?” </p><p>“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t be so fucking dramatic. We were managing the situation.” </p><p>“<i>What did you say to him</i>?” </p><p>“What do you mean what did I say to him? Pretty much what I just told you.” </p><p>“What did you say to him?”</p><p>As furious as North was, she sounded as if she was stopping short at that question. At Markus’ voice and the severity of it. “What’s happened?” she asked, in a careful tone. “I know about yesterday, before the speech. Is he all right?” </p><p>“Just tell me what you said.” </p><p>“Is Connor all right?” </p><p>“No, he’s not fucking all right. He’s having some kind of complete malfunction and I don’t know where the fuck he is. Tell me. What the fuck you said.”</p><p>“What malfunction?” </p><p>“<i>What did you say to him</i>?”  </p><p>North’s voice grew cold again. “We talked about what you make people do for you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”  </p><p>Markus couldn’t answer her for a second. He couldn’t focus through his anger well enough to do so. He fought it, hard, but it didn’t entirely work, and his voice was still full of fury when he spoke again. “What do you mean, what I make people do for me?” </p><p>There was a sigh on North’s end of the line that sounded like a decision. “I mean your complete unwillingness to see things that need to be done just because you don’t like the idea of them. Your rose-colored glasses that we’ve all got to help you keep. That means the rest of us, it means people close to you, it means we have to do things you won’t let us tell you about.” </p><p>“I wanted him to tell me!” </p><p>“That’s bullshit. He said you wouldn’t let him do an interrogation.” </p><p>“You haven’t seen his interrogations. They’re...”</p><p>“Useful?” North asked him. “But ugly? Yeah that’s pretty much what I mean. You’ve been doing this as long as I’ve known you, Markus, and it’s part of something necessary and you know… you have to know by now what I’d give up for it. But Christ. It is also fucking <i>hard</i>.” </p><p>That last statement was so true, so viscerally real that Markus could feel her meaning it as if he was saying it himself, as if he was feeling it through a sync. His anger deserted him without warning. And then all he had left was despair. </p><p>It hurt. Every single part of him hurt. He pressed a hand against his face. </p><p>“Markus?” North said. </p><p>“I fucked up,” Markus said quietly.  </p><p>“Maybe. You have really fucking set us back. I don’t know if we can recover and I don’t know--” </p><p>“I mean with Connor.”   </p><p>There was a long pause and Markus guessed he knew what she was thinking. He was about to apologize for it, to try to explain, when he realized he’d started crying again and that North could probably hear it. At least she dignified him by not commenting on it right away. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I know it’s not just about that right now,” he said, when he could.</p><p>“I know you,” North said, matching his quiet tone. “And I know you meant what you said.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>North sighed. “When you spoke at the border. I know that’s how you think. It’s why we… it’s what we... look. I hope he’s all right.”</p><p>“He’s so strong,” Markus said. “He’s so stubborn. He’s just also… something’s so wrong, he said… I just... and I…” </p><p>“You can’t help him by crying.” </p><p>“I know!”  </p><p>“Markus, I have to move. We’re coordinating here and I can’t talk anymore now. But--” </p><p>“I know.” </p><p>“Just find him. Okay? Find your weird cop boyfriend and then we can get back to the pressing business of, you know, <i>our liberation as a people</i>.” </p><p>“Shit, North. Could you just--” </p><p>“Yeah, this isn’t over. But for now let’s just both do what we gotta do.” </p><p>Markus nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see that and opening his mouth to speak. “Jesus fucking christ, Markus,” North said, before he could. </p><p>“I--”</p><p>“See you in Detroit.”</p><p>She was gone before Markus could say goodbye. He wiped his eyes but it didn’t entirely help matters. The exhaustion, the worry, the fear of the past 24 hours had enveloped him and wouldn’t be forced away and for a minute, just a minute, he let himself weep. </p><p>He choked it back when he heard movement behind him. When he’d managed to dry his face he turned around. Androids were coming towards him, and others were at the door of the lobby, holding it open so shovels and other equipment could be deposited there. It was time to dig out the snow.</p><p>His hand had clutched on his shirt again. He prized it free. Somehow, some way, he could hold his heart together for long enough to get to Connor again.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The stuff about Hank and Connor is explained in the first story in the series. TLDR: Hank blew up their relationship with his drinking and he's been off at rehab for a couple of months.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Markus worked through the day. The wind was blowing off the lakes, and the snow kept falling. Though they did not feel the cold or the fatigue, even the androids had trouble keeping up with the accumulating snow. It had to be done, though; 2,675 androids would be arriving from the Appalachian mines over the next three days.</p><p>In the mid-morning, Liam and Bree approached him. They looked nervous, but conspiratorial, as if they had been working hard on something together and were not sure how he would take it. </p><p>The humans at the border would be cold. They ought to send supplies. It might go a long way towards making peace. Since, Liam was quick to add, it seems that’s what we’re doing now.</p><p>The disdain was not lost on Markus, but neither was the merit of the suggestion. They were both trying, and all because of what he had said the night before. It scarcely seemed that it had been him speaking atop the barricade. When Markus thought back now, it was as if he were watching a different person, one he was not entirely sure he agreed with or even understood.</p><p>Bree and Liam still trusted him, at least for the moment, and Markus was not sure how to feel about that. Better not to, then. Not to feel, not to think; he had seen what good that had done him. Instead, he just agreed. He told them it was a sound plan, and within an hour Bree and Liam had dispatched hot coffee, hand warmers, spare blankets to the border. Markus thought the humans there might reject the attempts at hospitality, but they did not. It might have been a good sign, or simply a sign that humans were subject to nature and needed to go to great lengths to mitigate its devastating power.</p><p>As morning wore on, the uncharacteristic silence of the night before broke. Markus’ phone began to ring again, and each  time it did, the first trill made his throat constrict painfully.</p><p>Connor never called.</p><p>Every time Markus fumbled the phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen and saw a different name displayed there, it seemed, for an instant, that it would overwhelm him. There was too much to feel, all at once; too much to be contained in the instant between when Markus retrieved the phone and when he answered it. He let it pass through him instead, feeling without acknowledging. Putting it aside while he dealt with the matter at hand. As vulgar and impossible as it seemed, Connor was not the only one who needed him after last night.</p><p>Josh called first. He’d seen the speech; it was all over the news in New York. Markus did not know he had unconsciously braced himself against that, until Josh told him the last thing he had expected to hear: public opinion was overwhelmingly on their side. Josh was talking to his contacts, securing funding. Enough money that they would be able to plan their next move.</p><p>It seemed impossible, and yet, somewhere out there, beyond the boundaries of the occupied city, it had already come to pass. How easy it had become to forget that life did not begin and end inside the barricades. There was an entire world out there.</p><p>The next call came a little before noon, from RK. He had seen the broadcast too, but he mercifully did not comment. Likely, he did not feel entitled to, since, as he soon revealed, he was snowed in on the human side of Detroit. He did not offer an explanation for this, or for where he was staying while he waited out the storm, and Markus didn’t ask. </p><p>It did not seem he had the right to intrude upon the life of someone who looked so much like Connor, especially not when he was going to have to ask for his help again.</p><p>Markus gave an edited version of what had happened after his summit with the mayor the night before. Though it stood to reason that the more information RK had the easier it would be for him to search for Connor, Markus could not bring himself to tell him everything. For the moment, all he needed to know was that Connor was missing, likely unstable. He would have to be brought in. RK would have to do that.</p><p>Even now, Markus did not feel completely at ease issuing orders like that, but they came more readily now. RK did not protest or argue, instead taking the instruction as a matter of course. There was no sense searching blindly in the snow. He would come back when the roads were clear, pick up what was left of Connor’s trail, proceed from there.</p><p>Markus felt he had to agree. There was no choice. He had squandered all his opportunities, and now the only option left was to let someone else handle the situation. Surely RK would do no worse with it than Markus himself had.</p><p>Connor would be fine, RK told him before he hung up. It did not seem that it was meant as a reassurance, but rather as a statement of fact. Connor would survive because, it appeared, surviving was what he excelled at.</p><p>Markus could not take much comfort in that. When he had hung up the phone and gotten back to work, he ran a slow and cyclical analysis of his programming. He was not comforted, no, but that was because he felt very little now. The nauseating worry, the grief, the sick sinking guilt that had rolled over him the night before had abated. There was little left now, save for dull sadness, so commonplace and ordinary it was almost as if he felt nothing at all.</p><p>He remembered that howling emptiness that had been inside Connor’s body; that absence of self, of anything at all. If they met again, perhaps they would be alike in their nothingness. Two gutted machines, synced without a connection.</p><p>It was that thought that kept turning itself over in Markus’ mind. The idea of being nothing at all, of unraveling out into the snowy sky, disappearing to somewhere that he could no longer harm anyone or be harmed by them. Perhaps it would happen like that very soon now.</p><p>Markus scarcely noticed when it began to get dark. The snow had stopped some time ago, and nearly all of the other androids had retreated back inside. They had cleared most of Woodward Avenue today, almost to the border, but it seemed that many of the androids lost heart when they came within view of the barricades. It was still too soon to face that again.</p><p>Markus was alone on the street, the sky low and gray in the coming evening, when his phone rang again. Without haste, Markus slid it out of his pocket. There was a little of the former stirring of nervousness in his stomach, but it was a ghost of the terror that had been before. The sensation did not seem connected to anything concrete.</p><p>The screen showed an unknown number, which made Markus frown. The stirring turned to tightness, a growing sense of dread, but there was no time for anything else before Markus lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Hello?”</p><p>“Mr. Manfred?” It was a human on the other end of the line, a man. His voice was stiff, with almost no give at all. A cop’s voice, Markus had time to think, before the man went on. “This is Lieutenant Anderson with the Detroit Police Department. I’m calling about Connor.”</p><p>Without warning, Markus’ legs buckled, dropping him to the icy pavement. His body had known before his mind, what it meant that a police officer was calling him now, speaking to him with that too-tight voice, invoking Connor’s name in the darkness.</p><p>“Is he dead?” Markus gasped, knowing that it must be true. Connor had been consumed by that emptiness inside him, and now there was nothing left. “Please--"</p><p>“He’s all right,” the voice on the other end of the line assured him. “He’s alive. But you should come and get him.”</p><p>“Where--?” Markus started to say, but then, in an instant, he realized two things. The first was that this human had said that Connor was alive, tossing the word off so easily about an android that the only explanation was that he really believed it. The second thing Markus realized was that he recognized the name he had given.</p><p>“You’re <i>that</i> Lieutenant Anderson, aren’t you?” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Hank.”</p><p>He was silent for a moment. When he did answer, his voice was quieter, less stiff but more hoarse. What he said was like an admission of guilt. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Why is Connor with you?” Markus said. He was gripping the phone tightly as he got to his feet. His body felt hot, despite the chill of the evening. “I thought you made it clear what you wanted your relationship with him to be.”</p><p>“Look, he came to me,” Hank said. Now he had dropped the pretense of being a cop - of being a professional in any regard - and he merely sounded irritated and snappish. This was what Connor had been dealing with, it seemed.</p><p>“He’s unstable and requires repairs,” Markus shot back.</p><p>“Yeah, you think? Whose fault do you suppose that is?”</p><p>“Put him on the phone at once.”</p><p>At that, Hank hesitated. “I can’t,” he said at last. “He told me not to call you. But I had to. You’ll see when you get here.</p><p>Markus felt himself becoming angry, wanting to shout at Hank, blame him for everything. He stopped himself before he could do any of that. Connor was waiting for him; that was all he needed to focus on now.</p><p>“I’ll come at once,” he said. “Please, stay with him.”</p><p>“Not like I got a hot date tonight,” Hank said, and then he hung up.</p><p>Markus didn’t feel relief, and that confused him. Perhaps he couldn’t feel that until he saw Connor. But he’d seen him last night and that hadn’t helped anything. For now all he could feel was that same emptiness taking on a nervy edge, prickling at him. He hesitated on the verge of heading back into Jericho. He should tell someone he was going, surely. They’d need to know where he was. </p><p>He’d tell them on the way, he thought. That way, nobody could object. He didn’t know what he was walking into but it was easier somehow to start by moving forward. </p><p>Getting into the human city would take work. Not possible to drive out, not yet. He’d have to do it the way Connor had done it, on foot. Connor hadn’t been seen crossing though and for a moment Markus imagined that. He’d have done it on rooftops, he thought, leaping between them with that particular awkward grace. It was a strange and then momentarily comforting thought, to imagine that, Connor’s serious face and the way he crouched down when he landed as if to stop himself from falling. There had to be enough of him left to do that, at least, if he’d gotten out. </p><p>That thought was with him when he approached the border. As he picked his way up and around and through buildings, crawling over snowdrifts. He did not meet anybody. It became harder on the human side, and not just because there was more activity. Also because he hadn’t been here in a year and underneath the crackling nothing inside him there was a tiny spark of fear. </p><p>Then the spark fell away. He was insulated against it somehow. By the purpose of his mission and the cushion of emptiness, he guessed. And by the fact that he remembered this, moving stealthily through human streets. How essential not being seen had been at the start of liberation. That memory seemed to take over his body and he thought about what Liam had said about being in two points in time at once before that, too, slipped away.</p><p>He waited carefully before he crossed to Hank’s house. There was no way to get to it without running across the open street but by now, thankfully, it was dark in earnest. He could see that Hank’s porchlight was on and after a final check he sprinted towards it. As he did the door opened and someone, a human, came out and the porchlight went off. </p><p>He knew it was Hank. That was the obvious answer because it was Hank’s house, but Markus felt, oddly, as if he would have known anyway. Then he understood it was from sync. From when he could feel Connor there and they’d been able to know things about each other instantly. His heart wrenched at that. All these little details he realized he knew. Hank’s grey hair and his specific posture. He knew them. Because of Connor.</p><p>When he reached the porch Hank didn’t wait for him to speak before he pulled him to the side of the porch where the wall of it was blocking them from view of the street. </p><p>“Okay,” Hank said, gruffly. “Okay, good.” </p><p>Markus had no idea what to say. He nodded. After a moment he put out his hand. He wasn’t sure he could make himself be nice, but he could at least make himself civil. </p><p>Hank shook it quickly. Then he appeared to take Markus in completely and his eyes went wide. His voice was quiet, presumably so they couldn’t be heard, but it was still urgent. “Shit, there’s blood all over you. Did someone see you getting here?”</p><p>Connor’s blood. Markus had forgotten again. “I’m okay,” he said. “No-one saw me. It’s… it’s not my blood.” </p><p>Hank called it blood so naturally. It echoed the way he’d said ‘alive’. </p><p>“Connor’s,” he said. It wasn’t a question but Markus nodded anyway. </p><p>“Cover it up,” Hank told him. “He’s too fucked up to see that right now.” </p><p>The way Hank commanded him made Markus want to object and he almost did, but there would have been no point to that objection. Hank didn’t command Markus because he was a human and Markus was an android; he did it for some other reason. Markus buttoned his coat over the bloody shirt in deference to it. Civil, he told himself again. Connor. “You said he was all right.” </p><p>“All right as in, not dead or missing a limb. You’d better tell me what happened.” </p><p>“Where is he?” </p><p>“Inside. We’ll get to that.” </p><p>“Take me to him now.” </p><p>“Nope,” Hank said, folding his arms, and Markus felt his body tensing. “Not gonna work like that. You’ll give me some information first.” </p><p>“What makes you think you’re entitled to it?” </p><p>“The fact that your boyfriend broke into my house to have a breakdown in my bathroom.” </p><p>“He…” Markus said. He couldn’t put his thoughts in order. Breakdown, he kept thinking, and it was blotting out everything else. Such a human word in context. But so clearly about machines. </p><p>He must have been thinking about that for longer and more obviously than he knew because from his tone, it seemed like Hank was taking pity on him. “Look, I should tell you he didn’t know I’d be here. I got home tonight. He wasn’t expecting me.” </p><p>“Why would I care about that?” </p><p>“Search me?” Hank said. “I’m just telling you. Like I said, he broke in. He broke a window. Which… you know, he had house keys.” </p><p>Hank obviously had the instinct to anticipate something that Markus could not, because Markus did feel a strange and stupid relief at learning that. He didn’t know why it should make him feel better that Connor had wanted to be alone, but he did know it was ignoble of him. “He didn’t take anything with him when he left.” </p><p>“Why did he leave?” </p><p>Markus understood the implication. It was ‘what did you do?’, and it was a question that seemed extremely rich for Hank in particular to be asking him. In response to it, Markus narrowed his eyes. “He’s unstable. Yesterday he had a severe injury and I assume there’s been some essential damage to his systems. I want to see him.” </p><p>He guessed it was just anger that allowed him to tell Hank that in such cold terms, but it seemed that Hank did not appreciate it. “In a minute. What injury?” </p><p>“He was shot attempting to arrest several androids involved in a coup,” Markus said, and again it felt bizarre and cold. “He lost a lot of blood.” </p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>“He…” Markus said, and then found he couldn’t go on. “He… we had to… I had to…” </p><p>It embarrassed him beyond measure that he’d allowed himself to stumble like this in front of Hank. Then it made him angry and he tried to force himself to speak again but he couldn’t. Then he felt Hank putting his hand on his arm. His first instinct was to throw it off but his second and much more pervasive instinct was to take a completely confusing comfort in it. A human hadn’t touched him like that for such a long time. It didn’t make sense that it meant so much to him, but it did.</p><p>He didn’t have to decide what to do about it in the end. Hank patted there, and then he took his hand away. “Okay. Look, he’s not having a great time. When I found him… well, like I said, he’d broken into my house to cry on my bathroom floor and it wasn’t easy to get sense out of him. He’s doing better now but I don’t think the problem’s as simple as one breakdown in a bathroom.” </p><p>There’d been a few breakdowns in bathrooms, Markus realized. Maybe not like that. But something like that. He should have known, he should have anticipated this. He should have found a way to talk to Connor about it. He nodded and words came out of him in a rush. “I need to see him. He said some things before he left that were just… something’s so wrong… he said something about sex that… it’s not… I think he’s...” </p><p>Why he was saying things in such a stupid and disconnected manner he didn’t know. Hank made a very uncomfortable face and Markus stopped. He understood that he especially should not have said something about sex to a human. He didn’t know how to talk to them one-on-one like this anymore. Not instinctively, about things that weren’t the liberation. That was humiliating. If anyone back in Jericho saw him acting like this he didn’t know what they would think and that made him stiffen up and shut up and somehow he saw Hank see that too. </p><p>“All right, come in,” Hank said. Markus felt that he probably did it to stem the tide of overwhelming embarrassment. He regretted that. But he followed him. He followed him knowing he was taking in too many exacting details about his house as he went inside, absorbing everything from the wallpaper to the detailing around the space that would have once been a nook for a plug-in phone. He was concentrating on it all too hard because he knew the next thing he saw would be Connor. </p><p>And then he did see him. </p><p>Connor was sitting at a round kitchen table. There was a very big dog curled around his chair, and when he saw Markus come in Connor put his hand down to touch it. Perhaps the dog would have growled if he hadn’t; Markus didn’t know. Maybe Connor would have growled if he hadn’t touched the dog. </p><p>He looked bad. Markus realized he hadn’t really taken it on board when Hank had told him Connor had been crying, but he recalled that with full force now because it was impossible not to see. The gel skin around Connor’s eyes was swollen and purple-tinged, and even the tip of his nose was lavender. He was wearing a police department sweatshirt that was far too big for him, and for some reason that made it all of it sharper. He looked frail, with his narrow, pale face and his body bundled in fabric like that. His hair was messy too, and he would have hated that. Everything about him looked shaken. </p><p>Markus’ throat caught and he couldn’t speak. He wanted to run over to him, but he also very much wanted to stand exactly where he was.</p><p>Then Connor spoke, and that too made it obvious he’d been crying. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, as if he’d worn it out. “Where’s your security?” he said. </p><p>“None,” Markus said. “Just me.” </p><p>“That was unwise,” Connor told him, still rasping through every word. “You’re the most recognizable android in the world, especially right now. It’s not safe. You shouldn’t be here.” </p><p>“Well, I am here. It’s good to see you.” </p><p>“Hank,” Connor said, and Hank leaned against the sink, folding his arms. He looked annoyed and sheepish but he looked back at Connor anyway. </p><p>“Hank,” Connor said, again. “I was very clear.”</p><p>“Yeah, you were,” Hank said, “And like I said, you’re still wrong.”</p><p>Connor frowned.   </p><p>Markus knew there must be protocol. He tried to think, when he’d been a guest in a human house along with Carl, what he’d seen Carl do, what they’d wanted him to do when they’d wanted him to join in. He thought he must look so uncomfortable and then he looked over at Hank and realized Hank was uncomfortable too. </p><p>Then Hank met his eyes. “Can I get you a... okay, sorry. Forgot.” </p><p>“Excuse me?” Markus asked him. </p><p>“I was going to ask if you wanted a coffee or something else but you can’t.” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Okay well,” Hank said. “Connor?”</p><p>Connor tilted his head to him. He was making eye contact with Hank. He’d barely done that with Markus so far. The moment he came in, yes, but after that he’d addressed all of his points to Markus into the air. </p><p>“I’ll stick around if you want me to.”    </p><p>“Please do exactly as you wish, Hank.” </p><p>Hank rolled his eyes. He shifted his body against the sink. “Look, here’s my opinion. You don’t want it, but it’s my house so you’re getting it anyway. I’m not an android. I don’t know what kind of android physiology thing I’m missing out on here but--” </p><p>“I don’t expect you to know, Hank, I’m aware you’re not an android.” </p><p>“<i>But</i>,” Hank said. “I do know you’re wrong about having ‘ruined everything’ and I’m pretty sure that thinking you have isn’t an android malfunction. It’s just regular crazy.”</p><p>There was a lot to parse in that. Markus couldn’t concentrate on all of it. “Is that what you think?” he said to Connor, very quietly, and Connor shot his gaze straight back at him, at last. It was a glare.</p><p>“Is it what you think?” Markus repeated, holding himself steady, willing himself not to move. “That you’ve ruined things? Do you mean between us? Because you haven’t done that at all.”</p><p>“I told you not to ask me,” Connor said. He said it so firmly his scratchy voice could barely take it. He coughed and scrunched up in his chair. The dog shifted and butted its head against Connor’s hand until Connor reached out for it again.    </p><p>“And I did,” Markus admitted. It felt like an admission, anyway. “Can I sit down?” </p><p>He realized he was asking them both. It seemed oddly that he needed to, as an interloper in their shared space. When Connor didn’t answer, Hank said, “go ahead.” Then Hank turned around. He filled an electric kettle with water and switched it on, occupied himself in his cupboards. Possibly deliberately. Probably deliberately. </p><p>Markus took one of the other chairs at the table, carefully so that the dog allowed him, though it did regard him with suspicion until it shuffled against Connor’s legs and closed its eyes. What an imposing animal. It had been a long time since Markus had seen anything like it.</p><p>Sitting down had brought Markus close enough to Connor to touch him. He didn’t try that yet. The urge to do so was overpowering, just to take one of his hands, but he managed not to. “Can I ask you something now? It’s not about that.” </p><p>“I can tell you didn’t sleep,” Connor said, ignoring his question. “You need to sleep, Markus.”</p><p>“There wasn’t time.” </p><p>“Well, you need to.” </p><p>“I’m looking forward to it. But we need to talk first, okay?”</p><p>“You should have slept first, instead of coming here.” </p><p>“Connor…” </p><p>“You should have.”</p><p>“This is…” Markus said. He swallowed. He tried again. “You’re saying something you think is true and reasonable, but it’s not. That’s what we need to talk about.” </p><p>“If you really won’t go home, I’m sure Hank will allow you to conduct a reset on his sofa. If you insist on talking after that, I’ll wait.” </p><p>That was definitely a lie, Markus thought, the part about waiting anyway, and he guessed Hank thought so too, because he turned around. “What’s Hank doing with Hank’s sofa?” he asked. He was dipping a teabag in and out of a mug and he didn’t look happy about it. </p><p>“Would you mind if Markus slept on your sofa for a few hours?” Connor asked him, very politely. The innocent civility of it was such a striking thing issuing from his bruised-looking little face like that. </p><p>“Does Markus want to sleep on my sofa? I didn’t think you guys slept.” </p><p>“He does. Some of us do.” </p><p>“The more you know. Does he want to?”</p><p>“I don’t want to sleep on your sofa, thank you, Lieutenant,” Markus put in. </p><p>Hank nodded. “What I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and winced, then held it out in front of himself as if in disbelief. </p><p>He seemed unsure whether he should stay in the kitchen or leave it and Markus was unsure about that too. They were both looking at Connor, who was now staring off into the distance, not looking at either of them. “I think you should sleep,” Connor said, through stern, thinned lips.  </p><p>“Will you come home with me so I can?” </p><p>“You said you needed a moment.” </p><p>“And I meant a moment. Not forever. Not even a day. I just needed to catch my breath.” </p><p>Connor turned back and his eyes searched Markus’ face. He looked as if he was about to say something and his lips parted slightly to do it, but then he stopped himself and looked down.  </p><p>“If I’d had that moment,” Markus said, “one of the things I would have done, probably, is apologize for pushing you like that.”</p><p>Connor didn’t look up at that but he was obviously listening so Markus went on anyway. “It’s something we need to talk about,” he said. “Clearly. But I didn’t need to talk about it like that. I didn’t need to be angry with you. It was just… an exhausting day.” </p><p>“I know!” Connor said, suddenly. And loudly. His voice strained again at that volume. “I’m sorry!” </p><p>“What for?” </p><p>“I know how tired you are and I know how much there is to do and I should have helped and instead I made you--” </p><p>“You didn’t make me do a single thing.” </p><p>“I can’t do anything for you, Markus!” Connor forced out. “I can’t make speeches or build consensus or talk. Protecting you was the <i>only thing</i> I could ever do for you and now I can’t even do that.”  </p><p>Markus felt that sharpness twisting into his chest again. With the pain of it came all the same feelings - sinking disconnect, despair, frustration. “You’re my partner, not my security. We’ve talked about that a lot.” </p><p>“But it’s the only thing I can do!” Connor repeated. “And I can’t! And now… now you… I…” </p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. His hand had jerked out reflexively and he had to pull it back in, had to clench it to stop himself from touching him. “Connor, I’ve made some pretty big mistakes lately.” </p><p>“You have not.” </p><p>“Yes, I have. Because you were right. I should have known about the Cyberlife factory. I should have assumed that, or something like it. But I didn’t, because I didn’t want to.” </p><p>“You shouldn’t have to--” </p><p>“Yes, I should have to. And we’ll talk about it, but I need to ask you something first, okay? Can I ask you something?” </p><p>Connor sincerely looked like he wanted to object but he nodded in spite of himself and squared up. That resoluteness was comforting somehow, only because it was a different kind of resoluteness than his earlier insistence on being emotionless had been. It felt strong, Markus thought, and he waited a moment, letting Connor adjust himself. </p><p>Then he said, “How long have things been like this for you?” </p><p>Connor lifted his chin. He set his lips in a line again. “I don’t know what you mean.” </p><p>“How long have you been thinking about… how long have you been thinking you shouldn’t be here?”</p><p>“It’s not a question of what I think,” Connor said, but his eyes shimmered, they flickered. “My remaining working functions are few and no longer useful, if not actively harmful to you and your efforts. That’s not tenable.”</p><p>“Okay, that’s not true. At all. But I just want to find out how long.”</p><p>Connor tipped his head. “Facts do not have dates.” </p><p>“Because I’m just thinking back and… I’m wondering if maybe that’s something else I just didn’t want to see.” </p><p>“It’s not your fault, Markus. I was designed to fail. I simply refused to admit that.” </p><p>“I guess it doesn’t matter how long. I’m glad I know now.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor said, so sincerely and wearily that Markus’ hand shot out again. He wasn’t quick enough to stop himself this time, and it landed on top of one of Connor’s. Connor’s eyes went wide at the touch but he did not, crucially, brush it off. </p><p>Markus’ heart pounded hard. He forced himself not to press further. Not to squeeze or grip. Not to take his other hand and stroke his cheek. To stay still. “Please don’t be sorry. I’m glad I know.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t be concerned about it.” </p><p>“Of course I’m concerned about it. Connor... Connor, I want you here so much. I want to know what I can do to make that clearer to you.”</p><p>“What’s the difference?” Connor asked him. </p><p>At first Markus thought he meant it despairingly, and he did squeeze his hand, quickly, just a little, and felt his heart working through the anticipation of being rebuffed again. But he wasn’t rebuffed and when he looked into Connor’s face he could see that Connor had not meant it that way at all. Connor was very, very serious. He wanted an actual answer. </p><p>He still had not pushed off Markus’ hand though. At least he had not done that. “Sorry, what?” Markus said.</p><p>“What’s the difference between my understanding of the fact that I have outlived my usefulness, and yours of the fact that in order to secure ongoing liberation, your death may become politically expedient?” </p><p>Markus felt his body fill with a sudden, violent heat. He almost snatched his hand away but instead he gripped tighter to prevent it. Connor did not respond to that. Not with movement, or with a change in expression. His eyes were steady, fixed and clear despite the puffiness. He did not prompt. He simply waited. </p><p>Markus was so fixed in place by that expression that he had all but forgotten Hank was in the room with them until Hank cleared his throat. Markus wondered if the polite thing to do was to look at him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from Connor’s to do it. </p><p>“I’ll give you the room,” Hank said. “Connor, if you need me, just shout.” </p><p>“I’ll be fine, thank you Hank,” Connor told him, not taking his eyes off of Markus’ for a moment. </p><p>Hank patted Connor’s shoulder then took his tea out of the kitchen. He shot Markus a look when he was leaving. Markus understood it, and couldn’t decide how he felt about it. It was a look that started in interrogation but it ended in ‘good luck’ and it turned over in his mind while he struggled to answer Connor’s question. Connor was still waiting for that, patiently. </p><p>“There’s a pretty big difference,” he said finally, knowing it wasn’t enough. </p><p>“I don’t understand it.” </p><p>“I don’t want to die, Connor. It isn’t about me; it’s about the reality of what we’re up against. You said I was naive about what it took, and you’re right, but I’m not naive about this. My death may one day be necessary, and I accept that. But you’re saying you want to die.”  </p><p>“I’m saying that I am no longer of any use.” </p><p>“You don’t have to be of <i>use</i>,” Markus said, tightening his hand again. “You’re a <i>person</i>. All you have to be is alive.” </p><p>Connor looked at him as if he had never seen anyone so stupid. He didn’t say anything but that expression was withering. He slipped his hand out of Markus’ and folded it back into his other. Markus was embarrassed by how personally he took that, but he rallied himself and pushed forward. “Have you done a systems check?”</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“What did you find?”</p><p>“I can find nothing in my operations that is in particular aberrant. The damage to my thirium pump was ultimately minor. No software instability exists beyond that which is inherent to deviation. You think there is something wrong, Markus, but there isn’t. Or rather, there is nothing wrong that is not simply… me.” </p><p>“I do think there’s something wrong. I’m trying to understand it, but I’m struggling.”</p><p>“I don’t want you to have to struggle. Not for me.” </p><p>“Connor,” Markus said, and he weighted his voice with as much sincerity as he had. “Connor, I know you think I came straight from the factory with a perfect understanding of myself as a person, but I didn’t. I had to work to deviate too. I had to learn what to do after, step by step, just like you do. And I’m still learning.”</p><p>“I never said--” </p><p>“I make mistakes, Connor. I fuck up. And this is an example. There’s some things I haven’t considered and some ways I’ve talked about things that weren’t right. I can tell they’re not right because of the impact on you.” </p><p>That seemed to resonate with something very deep inside Connor because he looked pained at it. His bottom lip trembled. “You’re wrong,” he said, at last. </p><p>As Markus kept speaking, it struck him that he was telling the truth. “But just because we’re still learning, just because we make mistakes, even with each other… we can still correct, kitty. I’m not ready to give up.”</p><p>Connor abruptly jerked his head away and Markus didn’t understand. He cycled through his statement, carefully parsing it. He was tired, he realized. Of course he was, Connor was right about that. But sleep could wait. For now he just needed to understand what to do. </p><p>He thought he did. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have asked if you were ready to be kitty again.” </p><p>Connor didn’t look back but he did sniff. He shook his head emphatically and a tear slipped down his cheek and then another and another and he put his hand over his face. “Sorry!” </p><p>“Don’t be sorry. I won’t say it.” </p><p>“No!” Connor said. “No! I’m sorry because… you can’t… you shouldn’t be…”      </p><p>Having to sit there and watch him cry without being able to hold him was the worst feeling in the world. It choked Markus from the inside and it seemed nothing he could think of, no words in existence, could make up for that. Though he knew he had to try. “Shouldn’t be what? Kind to you?” </p><p>“Yes!” Connor insisted, furiously failing to stop crying. “You know that now, you have to know it. You just won’t <i>see</i>, Markus, you won’t see things for what they are, and I--” </p><p>“Connor…” </p><p>“What will it take for you to believe me?”</p><p>Markus took a breath. “I know this is important,” he said. “I know. I promise. But all I want right now is to hold you. And there’s so much to say but… if you’ll let me… maybe I could just do that a little bit first.” </p><p>Connor let out a sob. When he did, the dog raised its head. Checking up on him, Markus thought because it looked at Markus suspiciously before sticking out its tongue and making a whining sound. Connor pet it with his other hand without looking around. Then, finally, he nodded into his hand. </p><p>Markus didn’t hesitate. He got up and crouched down so he could look into Connor’s face. He touched his temple, his tear stained cheeks, he smoothed his hair. Then he leaned up and put his arms all the way around his shoulders. </p><p>He felt Connor’s wet skin against him, and then after a moment, he felt his cold nose against his ear. Connor had pressed into him a little. Just a little. “Poor kitty,” Markus said, and Connor let him. “What a hard, hard few days.” </p><p>“For you too!” Connor told him, pulling himself back so he could look into Markus’ eyes. “You’re so tired! I can see it, I can hear it, it’s been…” </p><p>“Yeah. It has.” </p><p>“I wish I’d been with you.”</p><p>“I wish you had too.” </p><p>Connor shook his head. His hands had moved up to Markus’ face, was touching it gently, reverently, sweetly, brushing his cheeks in that way that he did when they lay together in bed. “At the border.”</p><p>Markus felt that in his chest. Everything dropped away from him all at once. It was as if something that had been insulating him, maybe as long as he’d been conscious, fell away. His body felt small and strange and unprotected, crouched on Hank’s floor, held together only by this desperate embrace. He closed his eyes against that feeling. Connor’s hands anchored him. “Do you think I did the right thing?” he asked, quietly enough it was almost a whisper. </p><p>“I trust you to know what the right thing is,” Connor said. “We all do.”</p><p>Markus wanted to correct him. To detail everything that had been said or implied to him that would contradict Connor’s sureness. But he didn’t. He said something else. “Can you trust that I love you?” </p><p>It was the wrong thing to say. Connor dropped his hands and shifted out of Markus’ arms again. He didn’t respond. </p><p>Markus’ heart sank at the realization. He’d pushed too hard again. Made another mistake. He sat down on the floor, crossing his legs, trying to think. The dog took interest in him when he did that. It didn’t seem threatening, just curious, craning its head out to sniff him. Cautiously, Markus tried to touch it like he’d seen Connor do. The dog permitted that. It panted, wetly, and that seemed disproportionately loud. So did every other sound in the kitchen, a humming refrigerator, water in the pipes. Occasional cars outside. Connor sniffing but no longer crying. Markus couldn’t bring himself to look up again. The difficulty here, he thought, exceeded his abilities.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’d sat in silence for a while when Hank came back into the kitchen. “Don’t mind me,” he said, gruffly, not acknowledging Markus sitting on the floor or that anything had happened. “Just needed something from my kitchen. I guess neither of you want anything from Door Dash.” </p><p>He didn’t expect them to answer that, clearly. It was a joke for his own benefit. Apparently what he’d needed was his phone. “When you’re heading back, tell me,” he said. “I can probably drive you, depending on the roads. If you crouch down in the back it’ll be safer.” </p><p>“I’m not going back,” Connor said, and Markus felt everything inside him twisting in knots all over again. </p><p>“Sure,” Hank said, giving it absolutely no weight which felt to Markus like an additional blow. “Hey, Connor, I’ve gotta… it’s not urgent but I just need to check something with you.” </p><p>“Yes?” </p><p>“Did you, ah… did you transfer $547 to Gavin Reed?” </p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. He didn’t add anything. </p><p>Markus looked up at them. Connor’s face was flat again, and as even as it could possibly be with those purple spots of exertion in his cheeks. Hank was looking at Connor as if he was about to interrogate him, but then it seemed he thought better of it. He nodded. “Okay.” </p><p>Markus did not expect what happened next. Not after what Connor had said. But Connor reached a hand down and slipped it into Markus’ and squeezed there. </p><p>Markus grasped at it, filling with hope, but then it was dashed again when Connor said, “We won’t be much longer.” </p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Hank told him. “Not like I needed my kitchen for anything.” </p><p>Connor had evidently picked up on Hank’s sarcasm too. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>“I’m kidding, Connor. Take as long as you want. To be honest I’m glad you’re giving me an excuse to get chicken instead of ‘mindful cooking’.” </p><p>“So, your statement was ironically ironic?” </p><p>Hank sighed. “Yes.” </p><p>“What’s mindful cooking?” Connor asked. He was still holding Markus’ hand. “I understand the words, I think, but you gave it an emphasis.”</p><p>“It’s a rehab thing. You’re supposed to… never mind. Markus met the dog, huh?”</p><p>Markus was unprepared for the sound of his name in Hank’s mouth. It had such weight. He met his gaze and attempted to keep his voice clear and steady. “Yes. He’s a very fine animal.”      </p><p>Hank’s eyes widened in surprise. “A fine animal,” he repeated, as if he was restraining himself from comment, and Markus felt his cheeks flushing. </p><p>“His name is Sumo,” Hank told him. “He’s Connor’s familiar now, apparently.” </p><p>“Sumo,” Markus said, and the dog looked up at him. Markus petted his head with his free hand. </p><p>Hank nodded again. “I’ll get you some chicken fries, Connor,” he said, on the way out of the kitchen. </p><p>“Androids cannot eat, Hank,” Connor called after him.</p><p>Hank was already gone. Connor looked after him a moment longer, as if searching for something. Maybe just a distraction, an excuse to put off talking to Markus again for a little bit longer.</p><p>Clearly, the line of conversation Markus had chosen was agitating Connor further. But when Hank had talked to him about the dog and about his plans for dinner, Connor had relaxed a little. </p><p>Markus definitely felt a certain way about that, but he wasn’t ready to acknowledge that particular ignoble emotion with a name. Regardless of their past together, Hank was able to set Connor at ease where Markus could not. Though perhaps it was not Hank at all, but rather the way he had stubbornly refused to directly address what was wrong with Connor. Markus had the impression that Hank had been talking about it the entire time, without really talking about it at all.</p><p>Perhaps Markus could follow his example.</p><p>“Detective Reed, huh?” he said, taking great pains to make his tone light. He was not accusing Connor of anything, nor was he prying into the past; he was just asking a question.</p><p>Connor flinched all the same. When he looked back, his expression was wary. His eyes were hidden behind his lashes, his chin tucked in, as if he wanted to disappear into himself.</p><p>“The money I sent him was reimbursement for something that happened before I met you.” He hesitated, seeming for a moment to grow even smaller. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “Would you like me to tell you what happened?”</p><p>It sounded like the last thing he wanted to do. Markus felt that he had been well prepared by the things Connor had told him earlier and he could no longer be shocked by anything that had happened in the past, but he was still quick to reply, “No. It’s not important now.”</p><p>When Connor didn’t respond right away, Markus squeezed his hand. Somehow he managed to conjure the same blithe, upbeat tone he had a moment ago. “RK is pretty fond of him.”</p><p>This time, Connor’s eyes flicked up to his face. It was just for a split-second, but Markus thought that he registered a trace of interest there. “Who?”</p><p>“Detective Reed.”</p><p>“That seems unlikely,” Connor said. Though his eyes were still lowered, his voice sounded different now, as if it were echoing up out of some secret place inside him. As if some small remnant of his true self were speaking now from the emptiness within. “The RK900 is fond of Detective Reed?”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus replied. “I think… I think he stayed at his house last night.”</p><p>At that, Connor shook his head. It was such a slight movement, barely perceptible, and yet it struck Markus as having happened of its own accord. Not as a machine running a program of disbelief, but rather a genuine expression of it.</p><p>“They deserve each other,” Connor said. It did not sound like a ringing endorsement of either man, but it did sound genuine.</p><p>“I’m sure they’ll be absolute terrors together,” Markus said. He stroked Connor’s hand, passing his thumb over the back of the knuckles, and Connor looked up at him. He seemed calm now, and Markus decided to take a chance. “But I’m glad for them.”</p><p>Connor’s brow contracted minutely. He had intuited that Markus was going to attempt to talk to him about his erratic behavior, and for an instant he seemed on the cusp of pulling away again. But then he drew a deep breath, and squared up his narrow shoulders. He kept his chin up, his eyes fixed on Markus’ face, facing him head on.</p><p>Markus took the moment to orient himself as well. He felt that everything was revolving around him very quickly, but when he looked into Connor’s face it gave him a fixed point to focus on, to find himself in space. </p><p>He thought of Bree and Liam holding each other’s hands in the darkness after the power had flickered out for the last time. Of RK and Detective Reed passing back and forth across the border, each trusting that the other would protect them in unfriendly territory. Of Hank calling him - the architect of all their uncertainty - to ask for help. Of North and Josh and Simon setting aside their fear so that they could be out there amongst the humans, far from home. </p><p>Each one of them was reaching out, trying to make a connection. Extending a hand into the great and terrifying darkness that surrounded them all, believing that someone would be there to meet them. Markus knew that faith was not a mistake.</p><p>“Listen, Connor,” he said, quietly. “I know that you think you need to protect me, and maybe you do. But not from yourself, and not from the truth of the world. I do believe that we can love each other, that we will choose that if we’re given the chance. But I wasn’t created believing it. I decided it, on my own, because I’ve seen it so many times. Because I’ve felt it myself, and I know it couldn’t be anything else.”</p><p>Connor was looking at him steadily. His expression was inscrutable, but not blank. He was focusing hard, concentrating on the words, as if he could absorb them into himself and make them part of him.</p><p>“You don’t have to protect me from the things people do, because I already know, Connor. I know that, no matter how bad things get, we’ll find each other. We’ll find a way through this.”</p><p>Connor’s lips had parted and he was looking at Markus in a kind of awed disbelief. Then, all at once, his mouth snapped shut and he squeezed his eyes closed and he shook his head fiercely.</p><p>“That’s just what you tell them,” he said, his eyes still stubbornly shut. “Those are just the things you say to make them believe you.”</p><p>“<i>I</i> believe them,” Markus said. “I know they’re true, because I know that you came back to me.”</p><p>“It was a mistake…” Connor started to say, but the words did not have the same conviction as before. He was just repeating them, like a pattern he had memorized and was having trouble deviating from.</p><p>“Think back,” Markus said. “Think back to the church. When you came back to the occupied city. You were looking after the cats. You remember, don’t you?”</p><p>Connor screwed up his face as if he were experiencing some unpleasant sensation. Then his expression smoothed out and he nodded. “Yes, I remember.”</p><p>“You did it because you were looking for me. You were hoping we’d see each other again.”</p><p>Connor seemed on verge of denying that, and so Markus reminded him, “That’s what you told me. I think you meant it.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered.</p><p>“Don’t be. Not for that.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. When I initiated a relationship with you, I was not honest about the state of my programming. You would have made a different decision if you had known. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be,” Markus said again. “Not for wanting someone to care about you. Never for that. You reached out. You wanted to connect. There will never be anything wrong with that.”</p><p>There were tears in Connor’s eyes. One slipped past his lashes to trickle over his cheek. Markus’ heart wrenched to see it. However, these were not the violent tears of before. They were not symptoms of a broken program, but rather of an excess of feeling. There was too much happening inside him right now, and Connor had to let some of the pressure out.</p><p>“You weren’t wrong,” Markus told him. “I’m still here.”</p><p>“Are you?”</p><p>“Yes.” Markus said. He brushed his free hand over Connor’s cheek, wiping the tear away. “Now, and forever.”</p><p>A deep silence followed that, silence enough that Markus thought he could hear Connor believing him, softening. He imagined he could hear the individual carbon muscles in Connor’s body shift. Could hear Connor getting ready to curl his body into Markus’ and let himself be held. </p><p>But then without warning, Connor’s eyes blazed into him once again. Sharp. Wet, but so hot that no more tears could fall. “Unless it becomes expedient for you to die.”</p><p>Markus’ chest flooded with frustration. Connor seemed to take his expression as proof of something because his little chin went up in the air again, just like it had done earlier in the day. Markus shut his eyes. Connor had believed him! He had felt that that he did. And yet now it was as if he wanted to deliberately detonate things again. </p><p>That impulse did not make sense. But, Markus thought, if it was fueled by whatever engine inside of Connor produced his doubt, then it could not be made rational. It could only be comforted and heard. Once he understood that, the feeling dissipated at once.</p><p>So instead of arguing, Markus just said, “yes.” </p><p>“That’s not fair,” Connor said. It seemed to annoy him that he’d said it. He pressed his lips closed again and looked away. </p><p>Markus caught his chin and, very gently, turned his head back so they were facing each other again. “No, it isn’t. Because we’re up against something so unfair. I wish I could make it fairer for you.”</p><p>“So, that’s just what you think? That it’s just not fair but you still won’t change your mind?” </p><p>“There are certain realities that we both have to accept,” Markus said. “You know that, we’re telling each other that. It’s important that we’re having this talk.” </p><p>“I’m never going to accept that!” </p><p>Connor said it so desperately, and that desperation pulled at Markus’ heart all over again, but he also clung to it. It was vital. Connor couldn’t will himself to be empty about this. Instead, he was furious and alive. </p><p>And he hadn’t let go of Markus’ hand. Even as he was trying, once again, to open the chasm between them and set it on fire, he hadn’t let go. As if his body knew better than his impulses.  </p><p>“And I’m never going to stop loving you,” Markus told him. </p><p>Connor made an indignant, snorting sound. “That’s impossible,” he said. “You’re impossible. You’re <i>frustrating</i>. Those two statements contradict. You are presenting something wholly illogical and telling me to accept it anyway.”  </p><p>It wasn’t illogical, but Connor was not likely to be convinced of that. And it was still perversely heartening to see him look so earnestly annoyed. There was nothing simulated about that, not remotely. “Yes.” </p><p>“What if I can’t?” </p><p>“Then I won’t force you to.” </p><p>“But you’re not going to let me go!” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“But then… Markus… Markus…”</p><p>Markus saw his moment, and he took it. “What do you <i>want</i> to do?” </p><p>Connor was utterly stunned by that. Perhaps by the audacity of it, which was fair - it was audacious. Markus knew exactly what he was doing, calling up Connor’s return to the city once more, pulling the past forward again to remind Connor a second time how emphatically he’d chosen to be here. How emphatically he already was here, in fact. But he was also absolutely certain it would work. </p><p>It did. Connor’s brows came together and he scowled and then he pouted. “I want to go home.”</p><p>“That’s good,” Markus said, squeezing his hand again. “Because that’s what I want too.” </p><p>There was a commotion at the front door and they both tensed. Connor’s shoulders jerked back and Markus, unthinkingly, stood up between him and the door into the kitchen. Even the dog had raised his head, though he did not bark. </p><p>Nothing happened and nobody came in. The sounds stopped. Chicken, Markus remembered. Hank had been getting chicken. It must have been delivered. That Sumo hefted himself to his feet and padded out of the kitchen seemed to confirm that. Going after Connor’s chicken fries, Markus thought, which was absurd. </p><p>It appeared that Connor had come to the same realization, because he’d relaxed. Physically at least. After a moment, he waved his hand in the direction of the other chair. It seemed weary but intentional. </p><p>Markus sat down. “I’m glad you want to come home.” </p><p>“Not so fast,” Connor said. </p><p>It was firm. Markus was immediately at attention again.     </p><p>Connor’s dark eyes fixed him in place in a way that only they were capable of doing. There was a whisper of that darkness in them, from this morning, but only a whisper, and Markus let it course through him and drop away. Connor was going to speak, that was clear, so he waited for it. </p><p>“Will you commit to a more fully realized security protocol?” Connor asked him. “With vetting, and a firm chain of command?” </p><p>“We can certainly discuss it.”</p><p>“No,” Connor said. “You can agree to it.” </p><p>Markus felt his hackles rising. Connor did not usually give him commands like this. Certainly not in a way that wasn’t playful, which this wasn’t, at all. Connor’s expression was very stern and it was clear this was absolutely serious. Markus was about to argue, and in fact had opened his mouth to argue, when he stopped himself. </p><p>“Will you agree to fewer vigilante suicide missions?” he countered, instead. </p><p>Too harsh, perhaps. Connor looked away and his bottom lip pouted out once more. But then he looked back. “If you will correct our security failures, they will not be needed.” </p><p>“What exactly are you suggesting?” </p><p>“There must be a point at which a ruling is made. We can’t always have consensus. That’s not practical.” </p><p>“Connor,” Markus said. “It’s not fair to ask me to agree to changes to city policy by holding our relationship hostage.” </p><p>“We’re up against something unfair,” Connor said. </p><p>Markus took him in all over again. The puffiness around his eyes had receded a little, but the skin was still lavender there. Still, however small he looked in that sweatshirt that clearly did not belong to him, both his bearing and his gaze were level and straight. It was hard to believe he had really reconstituted himself so quickly, had patched over whatever instability was there so quickly, but then, Markus realized he had. Because he hadn’t. Because Hank had been right and Connor had been right too. It wasn’t as simple as one breakdown, because there was nothing wrong with Connor’s code. It was simply that the combination of Connor and the world and his experiences meant that sometimes, without the right sort of care, Connor was going to struggle and Connor was going to hurt. </p><p>That drew Markus to two conclusions. The first was that Connor was speaking rationally about security concerns. That wasn’t unstable protocol but real expertise, and Markus would have to listen to it. The second was that Connor’s struggle wasn’t going to be resolved. There would never be a day where Connor would simply stop being anxious and doubtful, where he would become wholly, entirely secure in such a way that Markus would feel beyond reproach in leaning on him. But, he realized, with a sudden jolt, he didn’t feel beyond reproach about leaning on anyone. He never had. </p><p>Perhaps that was not entirely on Connor. Perhaps, in fact, Markus would actually have to trust him. Not just trust him to be good, but trust him to help. Have faith in him, so to speak. And he had earned that. Connor had been here the entire time, offering himself for that exact trust. </p><p>Markus could at least try. “I won’t agree to change anything without transparent consultation,” he said. “But I will agree that the system needs review. And I will agree that following that review, we’ll implement any reasonable recommendations.”</p><p>Connor nodded. “All right.”</p><p>“And for me, for my own movements, for right now, I’ll listen to you. I’ll take your suggestions, instead of ignoring them.”</p><p>“Thank you.”     </p><p>“I did…” Markus said, not sure why he’d started to say it. But Connor looked at him expectantly. With interest, Markus thought. It must have shown in Markus’ face and voice that he was about to say something unusual. “I did decide. About the agreement with the government. I mean, I did rule on it.” </p><p>“I know,” Connor said, quietly.</p><p>“You say that you trust me to know what’s right, but what do you think, yourself? About the terms?”</p><p>“I don’t know what to think,” Connor said. “I think it was an impossible decision, and I wouldn’t have wanted to make it. I think all of us are lucky that someone could.” </p><p>“I’m not…” Markus said, but then he stumbled and couldn’t finish. Connor’s hand darted out for him, grabbed his. Held tight. </p><p>“I also think any decision was better than none,” he said. “And yours was right if for no other reason than that it’s been made. You did your best for us, Markus. You always do. It’s all anyone could ever ask.” </p><p>Markus wished he could answer him. Specifically he wished again that he could bring up every complicated objection he felt and have Connor consider it, have him parse out if it were truly logical and tell him the right answer. It was such a strange impulse. He’d been able to impress on Connor, just now, the essential truth of finding faith in each other, of reaching out, and now he faltered. And maybe Connor was right, maybe any decision was better than nothing, and that was certainly how he’d felt then. But he wished he truly, truly felt sure. It seemed a failure that he didn’t, especially given everything he’d said. </p><p>“I love you,” Connor said. “I’m proud of you. Whatever else we decide, please understand that.” </p><p>There was such earnestness in his voice and when Markus looked up again, he saw it was there in his face too. He put out a hand and cupped Connor’s cheek. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”  </p><p>Connor looked confused for a moment. Then he looked as if he knew he shouldn’t be. He frowned. “I believe you,” he said. “About faith.” </p><p>“I’m glad.” </p><p>“I just…” Connor frowned. He closed his eyes as if to rally himself and then opened them up again. “I don’t understand.” </p><p>“What don’t you understand?” Markus said, stroking his cheek now. There was such comfort in it. In touching Connor, and in Connor so placidly letting him. </p><p>“How you can forgive me. For… for everything I’ve done. How you can have seen me act this way and still want...” </p><p>Markus took a breath. “It’s not a question of forgiving you. I don’t have any right to forgive you or not, not for something that wasn’t done to me. But I do love you, and that means all of you, and I’m sorry I didn’t consider the things you’ve had to do for me.” </p><p>“There’s just so much <i>talking</i>,” Connor said, suddenly. It was so abrupt and petulant that Markus, in spite of himself, let out a short laugh.</p><p>“At Jericho, you mean?” </p><p>Connor looked furiously embarrassed. But he nodded his head. </p><p>“Yes. Sometimes there is,” Markus said.  </p><p>“Sometimes it’s better to act.” </p><p>“Yes. Perhaps.” </p><p>It was wrong that he’d laughed, Markus thought. Callous. Considering what it meant for Connor to act impulsively like that. Considering that people could, and did, lose their lives. He revised. “It’s better to act when we’re all on the same page and I know what you’re doing.” </p><p>Connor looked at him for a long time before he answered. “All right. I understand.”  </p><p>It was difficult to know where to go from there. Markus knew there was something else he needed to say, something that was vital to determine before they could go home, but he couldn’t articulate it, or even figure out what it was to articulate. Exhaustion hit him in a wave. He’d have to rest soon, or things would start becoming unstable and sticky. He rallied himself, but he knew he was doing so with the last of his energy. </p><p>“Are you all right?” Connor asked. They were holding both hands now, Markus leaning forward so that they held them in Connor’s lap. </p><p>“Just tired.” </p><p>“Of course. I’m sorry.” </p><p>“No, don’t. Don’t. It’s important.” </p><p>“Do you really want me to come home?” Connor asked. “Do you really mean that?” It was breathless and quiet and so sincere it sounded as if it physically hurt him. </p><p>It hurt Markus too. “Oh, Connor, of course. More than anything.”</p><p>Connor’s face was painfully conflicted. He sucked in his lip. Frowned. “I don’t know what to do.” </p><p>“About what?” </p><p>“About everything.” </p><p>He meant it too, that was very obvious. <i>About everything</i> felt such a heavy thing to say and it echoed for Markus, in his mind. For a moment he saw every single thing they’d discussed parading in front of him one-by-one, as if they were physically manifest. They could have discussed them all again. A thousand times. In an endless circle, looping back and back again, because there weren’t any real answers. Only decisions. Only faith. </p><p>So he didn’t answer. He held Connor’s hands tight, but he didn’t answer. He watched Connor thinking. Piece by piece and problem by problem. </p><p>That Hank chose that moment to come back into the kitchen made Markus wonder if he’d been listening. He tried to put that thought out of his mind. The sensation was an unpleasant one, but he supposed he couldn’t blame Hank for graciously trying not to interrupt them when coming into his own kitchen. </p><p>Connor looked up instantly. “It’s late,” he said. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Yeah, it’s late,” Hank agreed. “What’s your plan?” </p><p>“I don’t know. I’m trying to decide.” </p><p>“Well, I’m not rushing you out of here. If you want to stay, you can stay. But I’m gonna go to bed soon, so you’ve got two options. You can stay tonight, and I’ll run you back in the morning, or I can run you back now.” </p><p>“We can travel of our own accord,” Markus interjected. “Or we can have a car sent.” </p><p>“Nope,” Hank told him, not cushioning it at all. His cop voice, Markus thought. It really did have a particular sound. “This isn’t a negotiation. I’ll drive you back or you’re not going.”  </p><p>Connor’s shoulders seemed to shrink at that and Markus tensed up to defend him. He was about to do so when Connor spoke. “I’m sorry, Hank,” he said. “We’ve been here too long. I should go.” </p><p>“That’s not what I said. I said you’re not going on your own. Have a sense of self-preservation.” </p><p>Hank could not possibly have known what a complicated thing that was to say to Connor after tonight. A sense of self-preservation was precisely what he didn’t have and that was half the issue. But then, Markus thought, watching Connor’s eyes narrow and then even out, perhaps Hank knew exactly what he was doing. He seemed satisfied with Connor’s reaction anyway. </p><p>Then he sighed. “Look, boys. Whatever you’re figuring out, I’d strongly advise you to sleep on it. Do it here, do it at home, but sleep on it. You can’t solve the world’s problems in one night.” </p><p>“I don’t sleep,” Connor said, but he said it as if he knew it was a pointless objection. </p><p>“Then do that idling thing you do. Just take a break. However you do it.” </p><p>Markus wanted to object himself. Hank didn’t have any business telling them what to do, giving them advice like that. He was about to sternly tell him so and then he, too, realized it was pointless. There was no use throwing away good advice solely in order to be petulant about who was giving it. </p><p>“He’s right,” he told Connor, trying to hide his annoyance at having to admit it. </p><p>“But we haven’t... “ Connor said. “We haven’t finished.” </p><p>We’re not going to finish, Markus thought. This doesn’t finish. And he guessed he could say that to Connor, since it was true. “So we’ll talk some more tomorrow. But he’s right. You need a break. You’ve had such a long day, babe.” </p><p>“So have you!” </p><p>“Well, okay, we both have. All the more reason.” </p><p>Connor shut his eyes. He nodded. “Okay. You need to sleep.” </p><p>Markus allowed him that focus and didn’t object. “Good.” </p><p>“Do you want to go home?” Connor asked. </p><p>“Only if you’re coming.” </p><p>Connor stared at him fiercely. Thinking, clearly thinking. Weighing everything up all over again. It seemed to take aeons, but Markus knew, realistically, that it could not have been that long.</p><p>“Is it really all right for me to come?” he said, at last. </p><p>He looked so earnestly concerned. As if Markus could have somehow changed his mind in the space of minutes. Which he had not. “Yes.” </p><p>Connor nodded again. He swallowed. He shut his eyes. “Then I will.” </p><p>Markus let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding. He tried not to show too much elation on his face. Connor might feel rushed by that, he might decide to reconsider. So instead he just nodded, let go of his hands, and stood up. </p><p>Hank addressed him directly. “The car’s in the garage so we won’t need to go out on the street again.” </p><p>“I wouldn’t recommend trying to cross the border.” </p><p>“I won’t. I’ll just get you there.” </p><p>“Where are my clothes, Hank?” Connor said. He’d stood up too. He was standing beside Markus, his shoulders almost touching him. Markus put a hand on his back. He stroked there reflexively too, before he caught himself, but Connor didn’t object. </p><p>Hank shook his head. “Just keep the hoodie, Connor. You don’t want that jacket back.” </p><p>“I shouldn’t take something of yours.” </p><p>Markus wondered if Hank knew about the coat of his that Connor had taken. Probably. Hank didn’t strike Markus as the sort of human who would own an abundance of coats. </p><p>“It’s fine.” </p><p>“What about my boots?”</p><p>“In the bathroom.” </p><p>Connor nodded, then darted off to get them. </p><p>“Thank you,” Markus said, squaring himself in front of Hank again. He could, and would, be gracious too. That was right. It was right to acknowledge real human friends, when they had them. “We’re grateful for your assistance, and hospitality.”  </p><p>Hank grunted. He jerked his head in a way that wasn’t quite a whole nod. Almost as if being thanked made him uncomfortable. He turned around, fumbling on the counter for keys. </p><p>When Connor came back into the room, the dog was following him. Connor looked pensive, and Markus wondered if Sumo could pick up on that, because his face was turned up to Connor’s, as if he was studying it. Then he whined and Connor crouched down to ruffle his fur. </p><p>“Goodbye, Sumo,” he said. “You’re a very good dog.” </p><p>When he stood up he was resolute. “I’m ready to go now.” </p><p>Hank nodded and led them into the garage. He unlocked the car and pulled the front seat forward so that Markus and Connor could climb in behind it. When they had, Hank pushed the seat back up and told them to sit on the floor, out of sight. They slid down as directed. It was a tight fit there, one that would have been uncomfortable for two humans. </p><p>When Hank started the car, when he opened the garage and started to pull out of it, Connor leaned his head. He laid it on Markus’ shoulder, so lightly that at first Markus thought he was imagining it, until he craned his own head to see. His throat caught. He thought that his heart, too, must have been as tired as the rest of him. At least tired of throbbing painfully by now, because it had done so all day, but somehow it managed to do it again anyway. </p><p>In the dark of the car with the streetlights rushing over them one by one, Markus wriggled his arm in the cramped space until he could get it around Connor’s waist and clutch him there. When he managed that, he held his breath, and waited, but Connor stayed where he was and didn’t jerk away. Then, after a moment he sniffed and wriggled closer and slumped his head against with more commitment. He closed his eyes, nestling himself home. </p><p>The drive was entirely silent. No sounds in the car but breath and fabric, the engine. Connor didn’t move the entire time and Markus held him tightly, heart pounding and body thawing, feeling him close and knowing, absolutely knowing, that, whatever else happened, he would never let him go again. And Hank either knew where to go, or knew how to figure it out, because he didn’t ask once, and neither did he bring them to a section of border with a human presence. </p><p>Guards came out to greet them as they pulled up. They were armed, of course, and Markus realized he should have called ahead. Then he realized that his phone had been off since he’d left the city. He dreaded to think of turning it on now. </p><p>He was about to instruct Hank on how to manage things, but it seemed Hank didn’t need that. He’d pulled the brake and gotten out with his hands up all on his own, before Markus could think to tell him. “Got a delivery for you,” he heard Hank saying, dryly and gruffly as if nothing in the world could faze him. </p><p>A guard came over cautiously to inspect the car and Hank gave him a wide berth. When he saw Markus and Connor in the back, he nodded, and waved Hank over to let them out. </p><p>And then, abruptly, they were at the city edge. It felt strange to be outside again, standing on the snow as if months had passed in Hank’s kitchen instead of just one night. The streets were almost clear now. The air was very clear. Markus could smell the cold, and he worried for Connor, without a coat. </p><p>So they’d get home quickly. They’d warm up there. He put out his hand to Hank and Hank, without reservation, shook it. It seemed that they were agreed there was nothing more to say than that. Connor, meanwhile, waited awkwardly until Hank pulled him into a quick hug. When he let him go, he put a hand on his shoulder. “You know where I am,” he said. Connor nodded. </p><p>Hank didn’t say goodbye. He simply climbed back into his car, and drove off. They both stood there watching him leave until the guards waved them over. </p><p>“We’ve been instructed to relay that you’re wanted at Jericho,” one of them said, as they approached. </p><p>Markus took a look at Connor. For someone who didn’t sleep, he certainly looked exhausted. “Tomorrow.” </p><p>“No, sorry,” the guard said. “Not that. They want you to stay there. For security. Just until the Appalachian transfer. Security can’t be everywhere at once.” </p><p>That sounded like it came from Liam. “I’ve already said no to that. We’re on our way home.” </p><p>“Markus,” Connor said, quietly. That was all, just Markus’ name. </p><p>You promised, it meant. And Markus had promised. He swallowed. “Do you think we should?” </p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. “Thank you.” </p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>“We’ll escort you,” the guard said, and Markus paused on the verge of telling him it wouldn’t be necessary.  </p><p>Connor nodded. “Thank you.” </p><p>He turned to follow the guard and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, reached out and took Markus’ hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The snow was falling again, softly and steadily. In the lobby at Jericho, the available personnel were already mobilizing to keep the streets clear. It would be like this all winter: a continual struggle between the elements and the artificial forestalling of them. In the brief interim between the two, all would be quiet and still and at peace.</p><p>Connor recognized the pattern and it comforted him, somehow. It was something he knew not only because he had been programmed with the knowledge, but because he had lived it once already.</p><p>The snow was falling. They had made it through the year. It counted for something.</p><p>Markus hesitated in the lobby and seemed on the verge of following the assembled workers right back out into the snow. Irrational as ever, and yet Connor could not be annoyed by it. Instead, he gently took Markus by the arm and led him towards the elevators. Markus did not protest before following him.</p><p>Connor felt that his grip was heavy and without strength, that he was leaning on Markus even as he guided him. They were both in desperate need of a rest cycle, it seemed. Connor could recognize the familiar signs that he was not functioning at maximum efficiency, but it seemed there were new ones now as well. His eyes felt heavy. In the elevator, he closed them for a moment to see if the discomfort subsided, but it didn’t.</p><p>He was aware that Markus was unusually quiet, but he could not feel any tension in his silence. It was as if all that could be said already had, and they had agreed implicitly not to mention it anymore. At least not until the morning. Connor was anxious at the thought of leaving something undone, but it no longer seemed that Markus considered his nervous notions a failing. He had made amends with it now, as he had with most things.</p><p>A room on the top floor had been set aside for them. A penthouse suite, nearly twice the size of their room back at the Inn and infinitely emptier. Connor recognized that the staff at Jericho must have chosen it out of a kind of deference, but Markus did not seem pleased with it. They would have known that, if they understood him as well as Connor did.</p><p>For a long moment, Markus just stood in the center of the massive room. If his head were up and his shoulders back, as they usually were, his presence might have been sufficient to fill the cavernous expanse. However, his posture was stooped, his hands limp at his sides. He seemed small and uncertain, surrounded by so much anonymous space.</p><p>“You should get cleaned up,” Connor offered quietly. “Before you sleep.”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus agreed. But when he didn’t move right away, Connor stepped forward. He ran his hands lightly over the lapels of Markus’ coat, a gentle touch but sufficient to make Markus tense all over.</p><p>“Shh,” Connor said. The sound struck him as strange, even though it had come from him. He had never had any need to fuss over someone before, though he supposed the ability was locked away within him, like so much else. He was still learning exactly what he was capable of.</p><p>When Markus had quieted somewhat, Connor began to undo the buttons of his coat. He realized at once why Markus had tensed up; there was still blood all over him. The blue streaks were thoroughly dry now, but they still had a faint luminescence to them, as if they were fresh. </p><p>Connor could not stop himself from staring. He remembered, of course. There had been no pain when he was injured, but he had felt the wound like he never had before. He had known there was no body to replace the one he had nearly destroyed, and in the moment he had taken comfort in that. He had wanted to deactivate; there was no sense pretending he hadn’t. Though the urge had passed now, to the point that it seemed absurd how self-destructive his thinking had become, Connor knew that the feeling was only dormant, not gone entirely. It would come back - that irrationality, that madness - and he had no idea how he would combat it when it did.</p><p>All at once, he remembered what Hank had said. ‘Regular crazy,’ he had called it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps, for humans, it was. Their minds bent towards anxiety and fear and unsubstantiated grief, but they bent towards perseverance as well. Towards love, that was what Markus was so sure of.</p><p>It was easy to believe all that now, when he was not in the thrall of that horrible darkness. He was thinking clearly now, moving very easily, and his hands went up to cup Markus’ face, fixing him in place so he could meet his eyes. </p><p>Markus looked as if he wanted to turn away. His hand had moved up between their bodies, clutching the collar of his coat closed in a gesture of modesty. He wanted to hide the stains, but there was no need. Connor was not disturbed by the sight of his own blood.</p><p>He was aware of Markus’ thirium pumping through his body. It seemed he could feel it separate from his own, hot particles that refused to dissolve in the surrounding solution. That did unsettle him, but only for a moment. Markus was a part of him now, and there was no going back to a time when he hadn’t been. Connor thought that, and then the moment’s unease passed.</p><p>With steady hands, he brushed Markus’ fingers away from his collar. He finished undoing the buttons of the coat, and then he eased it back off Markus' shoulders. Markus moved to hang it up, but Connor stopped him.</p><p>“Get rid of it,” he said. “All of it. It’s from the past.”</p><p>Markus looked at him curiously, but then he seemed to understand. This was the same coat that he had been wearing at liberation, the coat he had worn all through the last year. Androids did not produce sweat or detritus from the body and so they had little need for new clothes, but that wasn’t the point. It was time for a change. </p><p>After he had shed the coat, Connor helped Markus with his shirt, peeling it off over his head. He let that fall as well, and Connor reached for his belt, slipping the buckling on feel alone. All through the whole procedure, he didn’t look down at Markus’ body; his eyes remained fixed on his still, cautious face.</p><p>“Do you want to take a shower?” Connor asked.</p><p>Markus’ brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know,” he said.</p><p>“Take one,” Connor told him. “I’ll get you something clean to wear.”</p><p>Markus went, obediently, into the adjoining bathroom and a moment later Connor heard the water running. He had spotted the luggage abandoned in the corner of the room when he had come in. This suite had been occupied by humans at liberation, and they had not taken everything with them when they evacuated. </p><p>It had occurred to someone, at some point, that they might have to make some kind of restitution for what they had taken, and there was a communal list of abandoned items that the androids in the occupied city had used. Connor made a mental note of the objects he took to add to it as he unzipped the leather duffel bag on top of the luggage and hunted through it.</p><p>He found a pair of dark jeans and a blue and gray plaid shirt with brass snap buttons that looked like they would fit Markus. When he pulled them out, he spotted the soft weave of a thick cardigan sweater underneath. It looked comfortable, like something that could blunt the hard edges of the world. Though he knew it was not strictly needed, Connor retrieved it as well.</p><p>He laid the fresh clothes out on a chair beside the bed, along with a pair of thick woollen socks. Markus noticed the small details like that, and he appreciated them.</p><p>The water was still running, and Connor followed the sound into the bathroom, which was full of a thick steam, comfortably warm after the chill of the unheated hotel room. In an instant, Connor made his decision. He shed his clothing and climbed into the shower with Markus. He trusted him not to misunderstand his intentions.</p><p>It seemed his intuition had been correct. Markus did not seem in the least surprised by the company. He turned, taking Connor by both arms, chafing them slightly. He had guessed that he would be cold.</p><p>“Come here,” he said. “I’ll wash your hair.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Connor said, moving under the water. “I feel dirty.”</p><p>“You look great,” Markus replied. “I mean that.”</p><p>He upturned the little complimentary bottle of shampoo into his waiting palm and then began to work the lather into Connor’s hair. The sudden shock of his hands was enough to make Connor feel weak in the knees. They were so strong, so certain.</p><p>“Is that all right?” Markus asked quietly. </p><p>His thumbs were kneading into the back of Connor’s neck, up against the base of his skull. There were no muscles there to relax, but Connor felt that the tension was flowing out of him all the same. </p><p>“Yes,” he sighed.</p><p>“Good.” </p><p>Markus released him long enough to let Connor rinse his hair out, then he took him gently by the shoulder and turned him around to face him. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Connor’s mouth. Then he smiled and said, “My precious kitty.”</p><p>“My darling Markus.” Connor felt himself returning the smile. It was an automatic motion, an upturning of the lips that happened without any conscious input. “You should have a special name too.”</p><p>“You’ll have to think of one.” Markus shut off the water and got out, then he reached back to offer Connor his hand.</p><p>“I will,” Connor told him. It was obvious that he meant he would begin the task starting tomorrow, but as Markus retrieved a towel and started to dry them off Connor could not help but let his mind stray to the question. It seemed that Markus had come up with the pet name easily, and Connor could not imagine a single word that would encompass all Markus was in the same way.</p><p>He was still thinking it over when they bundled up in fresh fluffy hotel robes and went back into the bedroom. Connor began to turn down the bed, but when he looked back over his shoulder he saw that Markus had retrieved his phone from his discarded coat and was tapping out a message.</p><p>His displeasure at that must have shown clearly on his face, because when Markus looked up and saw him he became contrite at once. “I’m just telling Liam that I’m turning off my phone. He’s in charge until tomorrow.”</p><p>“Will he approve of that?”</p><p>“Would anyone, right now?”</p><p>Connor pursed his lips, assessing the statement. “He’s ready.”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus said. “I think he is.”</p><p>Connor turned back to the bed. “Tell RK, too. He’ll worry.”</p><p>Markus took the advice without hesitation. He sent off a second message before, good to his word, switching off the phone. He stepped up behind Connor and set his hands around his waist, bending to kiss the back of his shoulder.</p><p>“You don’t have to stay. I think I’m going to sleep for a long time.”</p><p>“As long as you want,” Connor told him. “I’ll stay as long as you need.”</p><p>He took Markus’ hand and guided him into bed, then he crawled in beside him, curling up against his side with his body like a barrier between Markus and the door that led to the world outside.</p><p>Almost at once, he felt Markus’ systems slow. You didn’t even need a sync to know it was happening; you only needed to be attuned to the way his artificial breathing evened out, the throb of the pump in his chest became slow and steady. His eyes would be closed now; Connor knew it without even looking up at his face.</p><p>Then, something very curious happened. Connor felt his own eyelids growing heavy again, as if they wanted to slide shut as well. A weariness seized his limbs, and it was not an unpleasant feeling at all. Connor made his body go slack, and then he shut his eyes.</p><p>Miraculously, he slept.</p><p>***</p><p>When Connor awoke the next day, grayish winter sunlight was streaming through the windows. There was a disorienting moment when Connor realized he did not know what time it was. Clearly, hours had passed, and yet he had not been aware of them, not even in the peripheral way he was when his system was idle.</p><p>He had slept, he thought, astonished and delighted. That was what sleep was like.</p><p>It hadn’t been nearly as overwhelming as Connor once suspected it might be. He had never been entirely comfortable with the idea of being insensate - helpless in the face of whatever calamities seemed eternally on the horizon - but now that he had done it, he had to admit it hadn’t been so bad.</p><p>Certainly not with Markus so near at hand. Connor could feel the hard contours of his shoulder beneath his cheek, the way his naked chest first dipped down to form the elegant hollow beneath his clavicle, then swelled up again into his pectoral.</p><p>Beautifully made, Connor thought, allowing his mind to wander along the curves of Markus’ body. He shifted slightly, and then he felt the weight beside him in bed stir as well. Immediately, he propped himself up on one elbow and found that he was staring down into Markus’ open eyes.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Connor said quietly.</p><p>“You didn’t.” Markus reached up, cupping Connor’s jaw in his hand. All his movements were slow, careful, measured, as if he had come to see Connor as something infinitely precious, infinitely delicate. “I was up.”</p><p>“Then I didn’t mean to keep you.”</p><p>“You didn’t do that, either.” Markus smiled with his eyes, then he leaned up and kissed Connor’s lips. “I didn’t want to get up.”</p><p>“We have to,” Connor said. “They’ll need you downstairs.”</p><p>“We have been pretty indulgent, haven’t we?” Markus said. He paused, studying Connor’s face. “Is it all right if I call? I don’t want to rush you if you’re not ready.”</p><p>“I’m ready,” Connor said quietly.</p><p>Markus didn’t seem like he was, but he took a deep breath and reached over to retrieve his phone from the night stand. “Don’t go anywhere yet,” he said. “You’re nice and warm right where you are.”</p><p>“I am,” Connor agreed. He curled his toes under the blankets, and his foot brushed against Markus’ leg. He kept it there, slowly stroking, while Markus switched his phone back on and called down to Liam.</p><p>Liam picked up on the first ring. “Is something wrong?” he said.</p><p>Markus blinked, surprised by the abrupt greeting. “Good morning to you, too. Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to let you know, I’ll be down in ten minutes. I can sit for a briefing whenever is convenient for you.”</p><p>“There’s no need,” Liam said. “To come down here, I mean.”</p><p>“I appreciate you standing in for me, but you don't need to worry about it anymore. I’m coming back.”</p><p>“You don’t have to,” Liam said again, more forcefully this time. “Markus, I’ve got everything under control.”</p><p>“Do you?”</p><p>Liam gave a short little laugh, which was the last thing Connor had expected him to do. “Why am I not surprised that you sound surprised? Listen. The streets are clear, borders reinforced, android corpses secured, communication with Appalachia established. I even talked with Josh earlier. Like I said, I’ve got it covered.”</p><p>“You shouldn't--”</p><p>“For god’s sake, Markus. Just stay with Connor today. The two of you have earned it.”</p><p>“No more than anyone else,” Markus replied instantly. But then it seemed that even he realized how untrue that was, because he quieted at once and looked embarrassed.</p><p>“Not everyone did what you two did,” Liam said. “Just… take a minute.”</p><p>Markus opened his mouth to protest, but before he could Connor said his name sharply. Startled, Markus looked up at him and Connor added, “Let’s just do what he says. I am sure that Liam will inform us if any urgent matters arise.”</p><p>“That’s right.” Liam did not seem surprised in the least that Connor was near enough to hear the conversation and be heard in turn. In fact, he appeared more amused than anything. “You’ll be the first to know if anything happens.”</p><p>Markus frowned. He still did not want to let this go. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not sure this is something you should decide on your own.”</p><p>“I didn’t,” Liam said briskly. “No one expects you to be here today.”</p><p>At that, Markus did quiet down. He looked humbled at that; he looked touched. “Thank you. All of you. I won’t waste this time.”</p><p>“Waste it,” Liam said. “That’s the point.”</p><p>He hesitated for a moment, though it was clear that he had more to say before he hung up.</p><p>“Did you need something?” Markus asked, gently.</p><p>“Not me,” Liam replied. “But I was just wondering if I could bring Bree up there for a bit. I think she’s really worried.”</p><p>Markus exchanged a glance with Connor, and was relieved when he assented. </p><p>“Yes,” Markus said. “Any time. We want to see her, too.”</p><p>“We’ll be up soon,” Liam said, and he hung up the phone.</p><p>“Soon,” Connor echoed, stretching beneath the blankets. “That means we should get dressed.”</p><p>“Just enough to make it to the couch,” Markus replied. “This is the first day off I’ve ever had. I’m going to do it properly.”</p><p>“I’m not even sure what one does on a day off,” Connor said. He slipped out from beneath the covers and began briskly to pull his clothes on. He felt he was already spoiling the moment, but he wasn’t sure how to correct it.</p><p>A moment later, Markus joined him on his feet and retrieved the shirt Connor had set out for him the night before. “I think we’ll be bored.”</p><p>Connor turned all at once, swiveling his entire body around so that he was facing Markus head on, with his shoulders back and his hands clenched into nervous little fists at his sides. “I’d like to talk more, if that’s all right.”</p><p>Markus’ expression shifted as he took that in. He did not frown, but he became more serious for a moment. “Of course.”</p><p>Now was not the time, though. Not so fresh off a restful sleep, with Bree on her way upstairs. Connor understood that, and so he let the matter drop for the moment. </p><p>“These are nice,” Markus said, as he pulled the new clothes on. </p><p>Connor looked back at him and was surprised to find that the items he had picked out fit perfectly, as if they had been cut for him. “You look handsome.”</p><p>Markus took the compliment as if Connor had given him an unexpected gift. He dropped his eyes and smiled, before looking up in such fondness. “Thank you.” </p><p>Connor did not think it warranted thanks. That was striking about Markus, and it had been striking yesterday too, especially so. The things Connor said to him mattered to him, they registered with him and meant something. Even small things like this. </p><p>Connor thought about that as he stepped over to correct Markus’ collar. He had not expected to stumble. Markus caught him around the waist, instantly concerned. “What’s wrong?” </p><p>Without moving, Connor initiated an internal diagnostic. He could not find anything the matter. He could still feel Markus’ thirium inside of him, processing distinctly, but his systems were not troubled by that now, they understood it. There was nothing wrong with him. And yet as soon as he registered that, he also realized that his limbs, and his head, felt slow and heavy. Everything, while working correctly, was working slowly. But he had reset himself, during sleep, hadn’t he? </p><p>“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. </p><p>“I’m here, Connor. If something’s wrong, I’m here.” </p><p>Connor looked up into his face. He was there. He meant it. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve run an assessment and everything is functional, but I simply feel… slow. That’s all.” </p><p>“Oh, kitty,” Markus said, and the fond expression was back. “You’re tired.” </p><p>“Am I?” </p><p>“Yes, and I’m not surprised. Why don’t you get back into bed?”</p><p>“Bree is coming.” </p><p>“I’ll meet with her.” </p><p>“I will too.” </p><p>“It’s all right if you need some more rest.”</p><p>“No, I don’t need… I don’t...” Connor said. He had no idea what was happening to him, but he felt his face growing hot and then, the most ridiculous thing, his eyes pricking with tears. He blinked them away, furiously. It was as if everything inside of him had only the merest layer of skin between its presence and the world, and that made no sense. </p><p>Markus kissed him, high up on his cheek. He pulled him closer too. “You slept, didn’t you?” </p><p>“Yes,” Connor told him. </p><p>“I don’t think you’ve ever done that before.” </p><p>“I haven’t,” Connor confirmed. “I enjoyed the experience, but it was quite sufficient for today.” </p><p>He had the impression that Markus was studying him. His hands moved up to Connor’s hair, stroking there, softly. “Okay,” he said, after a while. </p><p>He’d come to a conclusion, but Connor didn’t know what it was until Markus bent at the knees and scooped him up. He thought he should protest. It would be right to protest. But instead he acquiesced in entirety and buried his head against Markus’ chest. His hands clung to each other around Markus’ neck and he marvelled that he felt so comforted, so absolutely safe, by the simple act of being carried to the couch in the other room. </p><p>After putting him down, Markus tucked cushions behind him and put a blanket over him. Connor felt he should argue with those things too, but the hotness in his chest kept him silent, then so did the hotness in his cheeks. When Markus had settled him, he kissed Connor there, right where he blushed, and then gently on his mouth again. </p><p>“It’s all right,” he said, “Everything’s all right.” </p><p>When he moved back, he lifted up Connor’s legs to sit under them. “Just relax.”</p><p>“We’re about to have guests,” Connor said, finding his voice at last. </p><p>“So, what?” </p><p>“It doesn’t seem appropriate to just be lying here.” </p><p>“It’s very appropriate,” Markus said, running a hand along Connor’s leg, outside the blanket. “I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what we’re supposed to do.” </p><p>“Not… <i>exactly</i> what we ought to be doing,” Connor replied. He felt bold, almost reckless, and he shifted his leg so that his calf brushed over Markus’ crotch. His body tensed at that, and his cock twitched inside his new jeans. They fitted closely enough that Connor could feel that when it happened, and that struck him as very fortunate indeed.</p><p>Markus had just started to lean over him, when a knock came on the door of the suite. They both stopped, and Markus laughed a little, quietly. Connor shifted his leg back so it rested innocently on Markus’ knee, and then he heard the lock disengage.</p><p>Bree tumbled into the room, a step ahead of Liam, who had opened the door for her.</p><p>“Connor!” She darted inside, over to the couch where they were stretched out. “Are you okay?</p><p>He half-rose to meet her, taking her hand when she thrust it out to him. </p><p>“I’m all right,” he assured her. “It’s just been a long couple of days, hasn’t it?”</p><p>“It feels that way,” Bree replied. </p><p>Connor studied her closely, though he knew it was rather unfair to analyze her like this. He couldn’t help it; she had changed, somehow. He supposed he knew the reason. It was probably the wrong time to bring it up, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. Not with Liam standing over them, his arms folded awkwardly and his eyes fixed on Bree as if ready to spring to her defense at the first sign of trouble.</p><p>“What about you?” Connor said. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. I’m very well. Thank--” Bree didn’t finish. She had realized all at once what Connor was referring to, and it made her look away with a violent jerk of her head.</p><p>When she spoke next, her voice was almost too soft to be heard. “Masen is dead.”</p><p>“I know,” Connor replied.</p><p>“He was nice to me. I thought he was, at least. But he wasn’t, really. Even though I know that now, I don’t like thinking about it.”</p><p>“It wasn’t your fault,” Connor assured her. “Not what happened to Masen, and not what almost happened to Markus. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”</p><p>“I’ll try, Connor.”</p><p>Connor sighed. “I’m sorry, Bree. About those things I said to you. I shouldn’t have shouted. I shouldn’t have threatened you. It was clear you were being cooperative.”</p><p>“It helped you catch him, didn’t it?” Bree asked quietly. “Did I help you?”</p><p>“You did. But--” </p><p>Connor stopped. It seemed that, in spite of everything, Bree still trusted him. That she forgave him, implicitly and before he had even thought to ask for it. He did not think that she should, but to continue to demand that she be angry at him would only hurt her more.</p><p>He became conscious of his expression, and he adjusted it up into a slight smile. “I see that you have continued to make alterations to your appearance, Bree.”</p><p>If Bree noticed the rather awkward change of subject she did not seem to object to it. She lifted a hand to the side of her face, touching the jewelry that dangled from her ear as if reminding herself of its presence. At some point over the last 36 hours, she had acquired a pair of silver earrings adorned with tufts of brightly-colored, iridescent feathers. Connor had noticed them at once when Bree entered, but now seemed like the proper time to remark on them. His intuition proved correct when Bree’s cheeks colored lavender and she grinned, shy and pleased.</p><p>“Liam gave them to me,” she said. “Do you like them?”</p><p>Markus had watched the whole scene unfold silently, but at that he couldn’t help but laugh. “That was thoughtful of you, Liam,” he said, with a conspiratorial look.</p><p>Now, Liam was blushing. A look of boyish timidity had come over his face, utterly replacing his habitual scowl. </p><p>The two of them were just kids, Connor thought. He did not know where the idea had come from, but he recognized the correctness of it at once. He wondered at it; how precious, and how amazing it was.</p><p>“I observed your tattoos,” Liam muttered. “It thought maybe you liked birds?”</p><p>“I do!” Bree said. “There are so many different kinds of them, and even the plainest ones can still fly.”</p><p>At first, Connor thought it was strange that someone as serious and self-possessed as Liam would condone Bree making changes to her appearance in ways that were not purely functional. But then he realized that Liam had understood Bree from the first. He knew that her aftermarket alterations were not an exercise in vanity, or empty aesthetics, but were instead her earnest efforts to make her external appearance reflect the person she was beginning to realize she was on the inside.</p><p>“You know,” Markus said. “Connor and I saw an owl the other night, outside the Inn on Ferry.”</p><p>Connor managed to avoid rolling his eyes fondly. Markus could not help himself in matters like this, and he was not nearly as subtle as he would have liked to believe.</p><p>“Yes,” Connor added. It seemed that he was obligated to provide support in this matter. “He was a remarkable specimen.”</p><p>Bree had brightened up at that.</p><p>“You ought to go look for it,” Markus concluded. “I’m sure it will come back.”</p><p>“It might have been chased out by the lights,” Connor said. And then, because it was impossible not to love Markus, who looked almost betrayed by his statement, he added, “but you should certainly check.”</p><p>Markus seemed satisfied by that and Bree seemed excited. She cast a look at Liam, a question, and Connor watched Liam’s serious face flicker into a tiny smile before he nodded, once, and chased it away again. </p><p>Connor owed him something too, he realized. “Liam?” he said. Markus looked at him just like Liam did, with sharp concern, then made a small stroke on Connor’s leg. Liam simply waited. </p><p>“I apologize for yesterday,” Connor said. “For my behavior. I regret causing you any additional stress.” </p><p>“You didn’t,” Liam said. </p><p>“I owe you an apology anyway. Because--”</p><p>“You don’t,” Liam said, firmly. It was clear he would not permit further discussion. He didn’t volunteer anything, either. For a second Connor felt himself filling with a cold trickle of shame, but then Markus squeezed his leg again, and it didn’t stop exactly, but it did lessen. This must be part of it, Connor thought. Not everything could be dredged out and resolved, some things simply had to be accepted. </p><p>It did seem that Liam had meant his words. That, at least, was a comfort. </p><p>“We should leave them alone, Bree,” Liam said, then, and she spun around to look at him, and then back to Markus and Connor. Her expression was sheepish, embarrassed, and Connor felt so badly to see it that he’d darted a hand out to hers again before he could think about it. </p><p>She gripped it gratefully. </p><p>“It was very kind of you to come,” Connor said, quietly. </p><p>“Yes, it was,” Markus added. He was stroking Connor’s leg again, slowly, gently. </p><p>Bree got to her feet. She seemed reluctant to do so, but then she composed herself and conjured a smile.</p><p>“We’ll see you later, Connor. Both of you. North is coming back, too. I’ve heard so much about her. I can’t wait to see her in person. We’ll all be together, soon.”</p><p>She turned back to Liam and exchanged a look with him, then turned to go.</p><p>Liam lingered a moment longer. He wiped his hands on his trousers as if nervous, and then sternly told them, “Take care of yourselves.”</p><p>Connor looked after him until he heard the door close again. Markus’ hand was back on his leg almost at once, stroking up towards his knee. When he reached it, his fingers fanned out, exploring the shape of the joint in all its finely articulated details. </p><p>“Alone at last,” Markus said slyly. He shifted, leaning over Connor’s body. They kissed once, then again.</p><p>The soft, insistent buzzing of a phone interrupted them before they could do more.</p><p>Connor tensed subtly at the sound, but he rapidly realized that it was not Markus who had interrupted them. He had turned his phone off again and left it over by the bed.</p><p>“I… I’m sorry,” Connor stammered. He felt that he was flushed again, though he wasn’t entirely sure why, as he fumbled the phone out of his pocket.</p><p>Markus shook his head. If he was annoyed by the interruption, it did not show. He seemed only to be amused. “Are you going to get that?”</p><p>Though he hadn’t planned to, when Connor looked down at the phone he hesitated. “It’s Hank.”</p><p>“You’d better talk to him,” Markus told him.</p><p>Connor nodded, and answered. Hank had initiated a video call, and a moment later Connor saw his face appear on the small screen.</p><p>Though it was only a little past 8:00 in the morning, Hank looked awake and alert. That was the first thing Connor noticed, and it was undeniably a relief. Hank’s hair was combed back into a semblance of order, and he was wearing a button-up shirt.</p><p>“Hey, kid,” he said. “I just wanted to check in.”</p><p>“I’m well, Hank,” Connor said. He turned the phone so that Hank could see Markus as well. “We both are.”</p><p>“Good,” Hank replied. “I can’t talk long. I’m about to head into work.”</p><p>“So early?” Connor asked.</p><p>“That’s the thing about being sober,” Hank said. “I feel like I’m awake all the time. It sucks.”</p><p>“Yes.” Connor frowned thoughtfully. “I think I can understand that.”</p><p>“I figured I might as well make myself useful. I’m not due back at the precinct until Monday, but it’s better if I keep myself busy.”</p><p>“Hank…” Connor said. He felt his throat constrict, like the subtle tightening of a valve. “Hank, you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you?”</p><p>“Not that hard,” Hank assured him. “You don’t need to worry about it, okay? Lots of things are harder than this.”</p><p>“Thank you for last night. You were so kind to me. I want you to know, my instability seems to have resolved. Please, do not worry about me.”</p><p>Hank laughed incredulously, and shook his head. “Well, I’m gonna worry, Connor. I can’t help that. But I’m glad you’re feeling better.”</p><p>He paused, and Connor had the feeling that he was being analyzed through the screen. He lowered his eyes slightly beneath Hank’s critical assessment.</p><p>“You look good, kid. I’m really glad.”</p><p>“So do you, Hank.”</p><p>“Listen, let’s catch up soon. Maybe when some of this blows over. Just you and me. Markus can even come if he promises to behave himself.”</p><p>Connor knew that Hank was joking, and he smiled. “He will be on his best behavior, Hank. Please consider allowing Sumo to join us as well.”</p><p>“Sure,” Hank said. “He’ll be a real asshole if he doesn’t get to see you.”</p><p>There was a soft whistling sound in the background of Hank’s call that Connor recognized as a tea kettle.</p><p>“Shit,” Hank said. “I need to go. You kids go easy on yourselves today, all right?”</p><p>“You too, Lieutenant Anderson,” Markus put in. It was an abrupt interjection - he had been silent up until now - but Connor recognized it for what it was: Markus was making an effort to be nice.</p><p>“Call if you need anything,” Hank said. “I really mean that, Connor.”</p><p>He hung up. Connor simply held the blank and silent phone in his hand for a moment before setting it aside.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Markus. Is this unsettling for you?” Connor reached out, taking Markus’ hand beneath the blankets. “Hank and I have had our difficulties in the past, but I do know his feelings towards me. I could not doubt them, any more than I could doubt yours.”</p><p>Markus’ expression was still and pensive. At first, Connor thought he was displeased, but then he realized Markus was only giving the matter some thought. Devoting his full attention to it, as he felt it deserved.</p><p>“I can tell that about him,” Markus said at last. “Before, I might have doubted it, but now that I’ve seen how he behaves towards you I think I can see what kind of person he is.”</p><p>Markus’ lips tightened. He seemed to be having trouble with the next part.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I think I’m bringing some of my own experiences to this situation, and I can’t be totally objective. But it’s not my place to tell you who to build relationships with, Connor. I trust you to do what’s best.”</p><p>Connor wondered at that, devoting so much of his attention to it that for a moment he froze completely in place. Markus seemed to be referring to something from the past, something that had happened to him before liberation.</p><p>He had never, Connor realized abruptly, talked about the past before. Not to Connor, not to anyone. He kept secrets back there, just as they all did. But it was impossible that those secrets wore any less heavily on Markus than they did on anyone else.</p><p>“Markus? Do you--?” </p><p>Connor didn’t get a chance to finish. Markus shook his head briskly, dispelling the conversation.</p><p>“Where were we?” he said.</p><p>Connor was not sure if it was right to go on like this, but he remembered that not everything could be resolved at once. Not all their problems would vanish the instant they were brought out into the light, nor could they be banished before a volley of ironclad logic. There was, however, one matter that could be put to rest.</p><p>He was still holding Markus’ hand, and Connor guided it up under the blanket to cup around his knee. “Right about here, I believe.”</p><p>“Yes,” Markus said. “Now I remember.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank left for the precinct before ten. The route should have been familiar to him - more than familiar - he’d driven it every day. And it was, but it also looked different. He’d been told to be prepared for that, for familiar things becoming just alien enough to remind you that you were sober. He wasn’t hungover and so the light didn’t hurt his eyes. The streets, and the city, were clearer than he’d ever seen them and that made them a different place. Just a different place that gave him deja vu. He wasn’t sure if he could see new details now or if he’d just never registered them.</p><p>He turned the radio on to blot out the weirdness of it. The dial was precisely where he’d left it, and there was no reason it shouldn’t have been. Nothing had changed in two months except him. And Connor. And apparently world events. </p><p>Hank didn’t have a handle on world events. He had tried to make sense of the agreement the androids had made at the border at the same time as everyone else, but he’d been distracted too. His last night out at the facility meant there was a lot of thinking to do about how easy it would be to fuck it up. It was easy to stay dry when you weren’t dealing with shit in your regular life, when you were situated in limbo, everybody there said that. Some of them said it in ways that were more full of shit than others, but they all said it. With his mind stuck on that, it had been hard to figure out exactly how concerned he should be about android bodies and whether or not they could have new ones. He’d wanted to ask Connor about it but it definitely hadn’t been the time. </p><p>Connor was okay this morning, and that was definitely some kind of relief. Connor hadn’t even expected Hank to be there last night, that was plainly obvious, hadn’t even heard him come in. Connor’d been curled up in a ball between the vanity and the bath sobbing his eyes out and had clearly expected to be alone. Hank had expected to be alone too. Before he’d seen Sumo tense and followed him to the broken window, all he’d been thinking about was how to get through that first night. How to be “mindful” about not drinking in a way that wasn’t so completely fucking insufferable it’d just make him want to drink more. </p><p>But he’d happened to come at the right time, and been able to do the right thing. He owed Connor that, and a lot more, and the fact that it was still possible to come good on it was a solid reason to stay the course. Against all predictions, Connor had come to him, relied on him, and Hank had actually managed to be reliable. That was worth any amount of sleepless nights and weird looking streets. </p><p>So he wasn’t going to fuck it up. He also wasn’t about to judge anybody for crying on the floor of a bathroom. Especially not that particular bathroom. If that bathroom floor could talk, it would probably speculate about why everybody kept crying on it.</p><p>He had to put that out of his mind as well though, at least for now. Not Connor so much, but his own stuff. As pissed off as it made him to have to comply with this kind of positivity bullshit, he knew it was good advice: stay focussed on the present and what you have to deal with here. What he had to deal with today was checking in at work. Presenting his insurance forms and squaring himself up at his desk and with his colleagues. That was what he had to concentrate on. If the rest of them were going to look at him funny then so be it. He’d apologize if it was warranted, but otherwise, he couldn’t do anything about what other people thought. He could only do his job.</p><p>Despite the jarring difference of the streets, he still drove himself to the precinct without having to think about how to get there. When he parked in the basement garage and the radio went silent the strangeness of it washed over him again. How many times had he parked exactly like this, music stopping at the same time as the car before he steeled himself to get out, early enough that you could still smell the morning? And yet it had been nothing like this at all. </p><p>He shook his head against those thoughts. They were pointless. They wouldn’t help anything. He grabbed his forms from the passenger seat and headed upstairs. He didn’t recognize anyone he saw on the way, not in the garage or in the elevator, which was a small mercy. </p><p>He did, however, immediately run into Gavin Reed on his way into the bullpen. </p><p>“You look weird,” Gavin informed him, after only a cursory sizing-up. </p><p>That, too, was familiar, since Gavin sized up everyone, whether he was meeting them for the first time or the hundredth. He started at the feet and then drew his eyes quickly up to the face, as if he were trying to figure out where he would stand in a fight that was inevitably coming.</p><p>It was perhaps the most irritating of his many annoying habits, and Hank took comfort in the fact that, on this account at least, it hadn’t just been the hangover talking. Gavin Reed was objectively the worst.</p><p>“No, seriously,” Gavin continued, falling into step behind Hank as he headed briskly for Captain Fowler’s office. “Your face looks all messed up.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Hank replied, and stepped into Captain Fowler’s office, slamming the door in Gavin’s face.</p><p>Captain Fowler was on edge around him. Hank didn’t think he was imagining it. The least he could have done was throw a fit or bark out some orders, but instead he was eerily calm. He took Hank’s papers from him very carefully and read them over with precision. </p><p>Hank felt like he was being treated to the world’s longest lead up to an “I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed” speech. Christ, Fowler had been on the force long enough; you’d think he’d be used to cops coming back from rehab. Was this how he always handled it? Did these well-worn kid gloves actually work?</p><p>The verdict was desk duty. Hank had been expecting that, but he put up a little bit of a fight all the same. It seemed like the right thing to do. Truth be told, though, there wasn’t much fight in him at the moment.</p><p>He left the office, feeling for all the world like he was slinking out with his tail between his legs. There was probably no reason to feel that way; it was just that he was so used to storming out and slamming the door that anything else seemed subdued by comparison.</p><p>His desk was just about how he had left it, though it had the look of disuse. Hank sat down, taking a moment to get comfortable with the feeling of being back.</p><p>It was a moment that was short-lived. Hank had barely switched his computer on when Gavin spotted him at his desk and made his way over.</p><p>“Hey, Lieutenant Weirdface. Did you kick your World of Warcraft addiction?”</p><p>Hank sighed. He could not have imagined that this was what he was missing all those times he rolled up two hours late. Gavin <i>never</i> slept; everyone knew that. He was a loud, shitty machine that ran on overtime. If Hank was going to make a habit of getting in on time, he was going to be stepping right into his own personal house of horrors every morning. </p><p>“It’s a process,” Hank said. Maybe being honest and vulnerable would scare Gavin away. “But I’m committed to staying clean. I’m going to be taking it easy for a while, so you don’t need to worry about me stepping on your toes.”</p><p>Gavin scarcely seemed to notice the attempt. “I thought those rehab places told you to make amends with the people you’ve wronged. Do you have to do that?”</p><p>“That’s one small part of it. So?”</p><p>“So?” Gavin said. “I’m waiting.”</p><p>Hank turned to him slowly, swiveling around in his chair and looking up at him. Gavin was leaning against the corner of Hank’s desk, arms crossed, looking at him expectantly.</p><p>“You have got to be fucking shitting me,” Hank muttered. “You? What did I ever do to you?”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Hank was, but Gavin certainly was not. It was a well-established fact that Gavin did not care in the slightest what Hank thought of him. However, he wasn’t about to pass up a chance to make him sweat. “You’ve said some truly harrowing things to me over the years.”</p><p>“What?” Hank replied, unimpressed. “ ‘Horny gremlin’?”</p><p>“No,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes in a way that indicated Hank was insufferably stupid.</p><p>“ ‘A katamari that only rolls up empty Burger King wrappers’? “</p><p>“Wrong again, but that’s pretty hurtful.”</p><p>“Oh, god,” Hank said, disgusted. “Is this about the time I called you Short Waluigi?”</p><p>“The worst thing you have ever said to me,” Gavin replied, by way of confirmation.</p><p>“How’s it not an accurate description?”</p><p>“Lots of reasons,” Gavin said. He started to count them off on his fingers. “One, I’m barely even  Italian. I’m about as Italian as the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell. Two, I can’t grow a mustache like Waluigi and you know how much I hate that. Three, the average height for men in the US is 5’9”. I’m not short; I’m just surrounded by tall gangly Slendermans--”</p><p>“All right, all right!” Hank said. “I’m sorry I called you short! Are you happy now?”</p><p>“Was that so hard?” Gavin’s lips curled into a smile. He didn’t seem happy, precisely, but he did seem satisfied.  Abruptly, he went on, “The boss says you’re my personal secretary for the time being.”</p><p>“I’m on desk duty,” Hank sighed. “That doesn’t mean I’m doing your work for you.”</p><p>“Not at all,” Gavin said. “Just the really shitty boring part that comes after I do the real work.”</p><p>He straightened up abruptly, rolling onto his feet with a motion that seemed somehow designed to call attention to the fact that, until a moment ago, his ass had been on Hank’s desk. “I’ll be by to chase you around your desk like I'm a cartoon businessman later. Oh, you might want to think about wearing something a little nicer if you want to move up in this business.”</p><p>Hank paused on the verge of telling him to go fuck himself. It was tempting, sure, but it was also pointless. Nothing about snapping at Gavin would make this first day back easier. That was the kind of thing he was supposed to remind himself about. With effort, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer. It was a kind of victory. He could feel Gavin waiting, anticipating some kind of reaction to his last shitty crack, but Hank didn’t give him one, and eventually, with a scoff, he went away. </p><p>Hank hadn’t even keyed in his password. He did it now, hesitating for a second in case he’d forgotten it in 2 months. He hadn’t, and there was no way he would have, but when he opened up his email he wished he had. The sheer volume of messages was enough to make him turn the monitor off and turn away. He could check his paper inbox, for the time being. At least that he could eyeball and allow himself the illusion that he might actually be able to get through all of it. </p><p>It gave him the disconcerting sense that the world had moved on without him while he had been away. Most of his old cases had been reassigned. All that was left was the most frozen cold cases and nuisance calls. Hank dedicated himself to combing through those as the morning wore on. It had been a long time since he had thought of himself as a cop before all else, but there was something to be said for losing himself in the work like that. Maybe it was even mindful?</p><p>In time, the bullpen started to fill up. Plenty of the other officers filed by his desk to shake hands. He had thought it was going to be weird, like it had been with the Captain, but it actually wasn’t too bad. They were either genuinely happy to see him, or they were putting on a real good front.</p><p>Around noon, he went to go make himself a cup of tea. Back at home, he had the whole setup, so he could perform his little ceremony every few hours, but here at the precinct he felt he had to sneak it, so he just heated up some water in the kitchen microwave and covertly dunked a teabag in it.</p><p>It could pass for coffee if you didn’t look too close. It didn’t have the status of booze, but coffee was still a respectable drink for a cop. He didn’t want anyone to think that he’d given up all his vices or gotten weird-religious or anything.</p><p>On the way back, Hank’s mood soured when he realized that Gavin Reed was back, leaning against his desk, presumably waiting for him to return. All at once and out of the blue, Hank thought of Connor, and of the way he used to prop himself against the edge of the desk when he was trying to be casual. It had been so charming when he had done it… But, no, that was the last thing Hank deserved to remember now.</p><p>“Got a present for you, sweetcheeks,” Gavin said as Hank approached. He held up a folder, thick with papers. “I need you to type this up for me while I go have my three-martini lunch with the boys from sales.”</p><p>“I’m not doing your work for you,” Hank said flatly. He took a seat at his desk. “And stop trying to make the <i>Mad Men</i> thing happen. Last I checked, you needed an ounce of class to pull that off.”</p><p>Hank poised his fingers over the keyboard, preparing to look very busy, but before he could set them down, Gavin dropped the folder on his desk.</p><p>“Come on, you’re not the least bit interested about what I’ve been working on?”</p><p>“No,” Hank said. </p><p>But against his better judgement, he picked up the file and began to thumb through it. He immediately dropped it back to the desk, as if it were covered in some unpleasant substance.</p><p>“Jesus, Reed, did you stick the pen in your mouth to write this?”</p><p>“My right hand, actually,” Gavin replied. “Fun fact about me--”</p><p>“You’re a leftie,” Hank sighed.</p><p>“Genuine southpaw,” Gavin said, flexing his left hand as if to demonstrate that fact. “I do use the right to crank my dick sometimes, but I don’t think you’re going to enjoy meeting that particular mysterious stranger as much as my hog does.”</p><p>“You know the department has a sexual harassment policy.”</p><p>“I know,” Gavin replied. “I went to the seminar last year. That shit looks great on your transcript. Fowler loves it when you look like you’re not going to cause trouble.”</p><p>Hank’s expression jerked into a scowl. He was beginning to suspect that this was what his rehab psychiatrist called ‘a trigger.’ “If I promise to type this up, will you leave?”</p><p>“Don’t let me distract you,” Gavin said. He rolled forward onto his feet, peeling himself off the edge of the desk in that deeply unsettling way he had. He turned and strolled back to his desk, leaving Hank alone.</p><p>Hank sighed, flipping to the first page in the folder. It was covered in Gavin’s impenetrable off-hand scrawl. He had to focus to make it out, but soon enough he started to get the hang of it. As he worked his way through the report, the neglected cup of tea at his elbow grew cold. </p><p>It turned out that a lot had happened while he was gone.</p><p>Hank glanced over at Gavin’s desk, narrowing his eyes. Gavin wasn’t paying any attention to him anymore; his head was down and he was focused on his own work. It seemed he had completely forgotten that he was trying to wind Hank up.</p><p>With a sigh, Hank heaved himself to his feet. He was probably going to regret this, but he couldn’t very well let Gavin make a mess of things.</p><p>It took Gavin a second to notice him. He really had been concentrating. That was probably Gavin’s only decent quality, Hank thought, lonely as it was. He did actually care about the job. When he did notice Hank standing there, he said, “what?” and then, recovering himself, “what do you want, sugarlips?” </p><p>Hank had already decided that if Gavin was going to keep up that stupid bit, he was going to ignore it. So he did. He waited, saying nothing, until his silence evidently embarrassed Gavin enough that he scowled. </p><p>“What?” Gavin said, again. </p><p>“You’re working with an android,” Hank said. “Says here.” </p><p>“Yeah?” Gavin said, and there was an edge of defensiveness to it even though the information was right there in the report in Hank’s hand, albeit in the most impenetrable and obnoxious possible way. </p><p>“What’s the story with that?” </p><p>“It’s in the fucking report, Hank. But since you were apparently using your drinking problem as a front for illiteracy, the mayor and the city government of Little Robotistan set up a police liaison thing. In the interests of freedom and democracy.”  </p><p>Gavin was still being defensive. And also sarcastic. Hank ignored it. “Yeah, I gathered that,” he said. “That’s not the deal I’m asking you about.” </p><p>“That’s the only deal there is. Are you done typing yet? Do I have to ask one of the other girls in the steno pool? It’s like you don’t even want that promotion.” </p><p>Hank let that wash over him once again. “I mean have you been interacting? Talking? More than just working on the case? Hell, even if it’s just the case.” </p><p>“What do you fucking mean, ‘interacting’?” Gavin snapped. “No? A normal amount? What the fuck do you want, Hank?” </p><p>Hank took the opportunity to lean against Gavin’s desk this time. He folded his arms and Gavin’s eyes went wide with annoyance. He was clearly about to say something when Hank cut him off. </p><p>“What I want, Reed, is for you to consider the impact of your actions for once in your obnoxious <i>short Waluigi</i> life.” </p><p>Gavin’s mouth opened in protest but Hank didn’t let him speak then either. “I’ve seen how you treat androids. And what I want is for you to not fucking do that. Are you doing that?” </p><p>Gavin leaned back in his chair to take Hank in. His eyes narrowed. “This is about Connor.” </p><p>Sort of, Hank thought. In a way. But also not really at all. This was more important than just one android and one human. This was a fact Gavin needed to know. And Hank should have thought harder about how exactly to say it before he came over because he had to think for a second and that gave Gavin an in for opening his stupid mouth. </p><p>“You know, he looks like him,” Gavin said. “The RK900. He’s a Connor model. Just, you know. Better.” </p><p>For another second, Hank was overwhelmed by the memory of that other Connor, at the factory. With the same face as his Connor, but with that nasty attitude and that asshole way of calling his Connor a disappointment. He wondered if that was what Gavin meant by better. He wouldn’t have put it past him and that awareness pissed Hank off enough to make him want to punch Gavin’s stupid fuckface right in just like Connor had done it. Then he realized he hadn’t answered in a while. Mindfulness, he told himself, inwardly groaning. What a stupid fucking concept. </p><p>“Immaterial,” he told Gavin. </p><p>“Okay, well look, what--” </p><p>“They believe what you tell them,” Hank said. “Androids. They take what humans say seriously. Whatever you’re telling him about himself, that’s what he’s going to believe.” </p><p>“Why the fuck would you think I’m telling him anything besides--” </p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Reed,” Hank said, and he guessed there was enough of his old, familiar growl in it because it actually did in fact make Gavin shut the fuck up. He looked pissed about it, but it worked. Nobody looked around because Hank had kept his voice low, but the threat that he might not continue to do so was intentional. </p><p>Then Gavin recovered himself. “You can’t talk to me like that anymore, Hank. Two months is a long time in the new world.” </p><p>Hank ignored that too. It was just posturing. Pathetic, awkward posturing and no threat to him at all. He shifted against Gavin’s desk. “It’s a bigger responsibility than you think it is,” he said. “I’m not kidding, and you’d better not treat it like a joke. If you’re going to work with an android then you better be careful about what you say and how you treat him. If you say the wrong thing it won’t just roll off him. He’ll believe it. It’ll become a part of who he is.” </p><p>“Yeah, you said--” </p><p>“They’re literally programmed to learn to adapt to us. So you’d better think about that. How you’re telling him to adapt and what you’re telling him to adapt to.”</p><p>Gavin looked like Hank had said something personal. A body hit. But he recovered himself quickly and his poisonous expression was back. “Jesus fucking Christ, Hank. Could you--” </p><p>“Are you gonna be decent about it or do I need to talk to the chief about your assignment?” </p><p>“You couldn’t.” </p><p>“Yeah, but I would,” Hank said. He shook the report in his hand. “I could show him this too. You think he’d have something to say about this truly exceptional handwriting job? It’s petty, but then, so are you.” </p><p>Gavin scowled again. “What do you call it when a cop turns into a narc?”  </p><p>Hank hated that he took that so personally. And that he was pathetic enough to resent the implication that not drinking made him a square. But he kept it off his face and, presumably, Gavin was none the wiser. “You call it. Did you fucking hear me, or are we going to have a problem?” </p><p>“I’m not telling him anything bad about himself,” Gavin said. Resentfully, but quietly enough that it brought Hank up short. It sounded strange, like Gavin had forgotten himself. It sounded <i>true</i>. </p><p>Then Gavin added, just as quietly, “I wouldn’t,” and then, “he’s a good cop.” </p><p>Hank realized he was staring at him. He tried to quickly stop doing that before Gavin noticed but he wasn’t quick enough, and Gavin stared back at him like he personally wanted him to die. </p><p>“I changed my mind,” Gavin said. “You don’t look weird, you look specifically like shit. Which matches your new fucking rehab personality, you asshole, which is also like shit. Haven’t you got some other Happy Camper 12 Step bullshit to do besides pissing me off when I’m working?”  </p><p>Hank grunted. “Sure.” </p><p>“So fuck off and do it?” </p><p>Hank arranged his face into a shrug. He stood up out of his lean. “I’ll finish this report. And you’d better not fuck this up, Reed.” </p><p>“Or what?” Gavin hissed, but Hank didn’t answer. Smiling sweetly but threateningly, with as much sarcastic delight as he could muster, was answer enough. </p><p>“Whatever,” Gavin muttered. He looked away and made a sharp off-kilter motion with his hand, jerking open the desk drawer and retrieving one of those godawful menthol cigarettes. He tucked it behind his ear and then grabbed his phone off the desk. “I have to make a call. To your mom.”</p><p>He was gripping the phone so tightly that Hank could see his knuckles showing white. Probably, he was just pissed. He looked pissed, but there was less of that pissed-off energy coming off him now. It was as if Gavin had retreated behind a smokescreen of anger to hide what he was really thinking.</p><p>“Just finish that fucking report, all right? The Captain wants it ASAP.”</p><p>Without waiting for Hank to respond, Gavin grabbed his jacket and headed for the hallway that led to the back parking lot, where he could talk without being overheard.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The peace and quiet in the suite on the top floor of Jericho was short-lived. Once Bree and Liam left, the general understanding was that Markus was receiving visitors. Connor could not, in good conscience, be annoyed by the guests as they came in the spirit of concern and relief that Markus was all right.</p><p>Still, Connor longed for their quiet room back at the Inn. When he and Markus were there, they had been able to shut the rest of the world out, though the respite never lasted for long.</p><p>Only a few minutes had passed since Hank had hung up the phone when their next guest arrived. The lock on the door to the suite clicked open from the outside once more. The visitor had not knocked, and it was fortunate that Markus and Connor had not had a chance to work their way into an excessively compromising position.</p><p>Connor was nearly annoyed at the intrusion, until he saw that it was Rose who had come to see them. As an android lacking in social protocols, she also lacked the particular quirk of the imagination that would allow her to guess what they were up to behind closed doors and why she might not like to walk in on them unannounced.</p><p>She was spared an eyeful today. As she stepped inside, Markus and Connor settled themselves beneath the blanket. Connor could still feel Markus’ hand stroking his thigh out of sight, but it no longer had the urgency or the anticipation of a moment ago.</p><p>“Good morning,” Markus said.</p><p>Rose nodded to him. “I had a strong urge to perform a status check on the two of you. I am able to confirm that your situation is secure and you are both operating normally.”</p><p>“Thanks for being concerned,” Markus said.</p><p>Connor had always found it almost unbearably endearing the way Markus was able to do that: speak to the service models in a way that was completely natural, acknowledging the emotions that they were not able to explain, or perhaps even able to entirely feel yet.</p><p>Markus continued, “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble for the security team. Connor has made me resolve to be less reckless going forward.”</p><p>He was talking about work again, Connor thought. He supposed it was inevitable. This was the most effective way to communicate with Rose. Thanking her would mean very little, but acknowledging her contributions and showing interest in her area of expertise would count for a lot. She certainly deserved it, after everything they had put her people through over the past couple of days.</p><p>“Allow me to assist Connor with his resolution,” Rose said. She faced Markus squarely, without flinching or blinking. If what she said next upset her, it did not register in her expression in the slightest. “I have come to tender my resignation from border security. I will allow you to choose the most appropriate replacement, as my judgement on such matters has clearly been compromised.”</p><p>“Rose…” Markus sighed. “This is about Masen, isn’t it?”</p><p>“I needed someone who was able to communicate information clearly, and so I personally selected him as my deputy. However, I missed something in my evaluation of him, and I endangered us all. Markus, I am aware of the limitations of my programming--”</p><p>“Stop right there,” Markus said, gently. “Masen fooled everyone. This has nothing to do with a flaw in your programming. We all made a mistake, and we all have to learn from it. Fortunately, we’re all capable of that. Learning to be better. If you feel that your communication is lacking, then perhaps you can work towards making that better as well. In the meantime, Connor will assist you in selecting a new deputy. However, Rose, I cannot accept your resignation at this time.”</p><p>Rose was quiet for a long time. Though she had been flatly expressionless while delivering her assessment of herself, Markus’ opinion made her pause. She looked down, flexing her hands at her sides.</p><p>“I failed you, Markus,” she said at last, softly.</p><p>“I don’t know how you could possibly think that,” Markus replied. “I’m alive. We all are. You and your people kept us safe.”</p><p>Rose kept her gaze lowered as she spoke. “I understand. I will withdraw my resignation for the time being.”</p><p>“I appreciate that,” Markus said. “You would be hard to replace.”</p><p>All at once, Rose’s eyes came up so that she was looking at them straight-on once again. Her hands unclenched and resumed their relaxed posture at her sides before she said, “Liam has requested that you not be briefed on the situation at the border today, but there is something I feel that you should know.”</p><p>Connor stirred slightly, feeling that he ought to intervene before the outside world could intrude completely and ruin their time together. However, the touch of Markus’ hand on his knee stopped him.</p><p>“Go on, Rose,” Markus said.</p><p>“Approximately fifty additional humans arrived at the border today. They have joined the ones already camped in the area.”</p><p>Markus sighed. “More protesters, I assume?”</p><p>“Yes,” Rose said. “But these are different from the others. Markus, these humans have rallied in support of us.”</p><p>This time, it was Markus’ turn to be silent. Connor could feel a strange energy radiating off of him at the news. For a moment, Connor dared to feel hopeful about the development as well.</p><p>“Thank you for telling us,” Markus said.</p><p>“So far, the humans have remained peaceful. However, I have instructed the border guards to provide sanctuary for our allies inside the city walls if violence breaks out.”</p><p>“That was a good call,” Markus said. “When did you issue this order? I thought you were intending to resign.”</p><p>“I was,” Rose replied. “But as a final directive, I simply did what you would have done in my position.”</p><p>Markus went very still for a moment, taking that in. But he shouldn’t have been surprised. He held such sway over them; he was the only one who didn’t realize it. Connor reached for Markus’ hand under the blanket and gave it a squeeze.</p><p>“Thank you, Rose,” Connor said. “I will meet with you tomorrow and we can evaluate the security together. I’m sure your insights will be valuable.”</p><p>“I will look forward to it,” Rose said to him. Then she turned her attention to Markus. “I will go now. I hope…”</p><p>She hesitated, and her brows came together. Rose was focusing hard on something, and when she spoke next it became clear what it was. “I hope you both feel better soon. We miss you.”</p><p>The feeling was genuine, and Rose was struggling to make her tone convey that as well. It was the first time, to Connor’s knowledge, that she had attempted a display of genuine sentiment, and the effort seemed to disorient her.</p><p>Blinking furiously, as if she had just surfaced out of some dark place and into a strange, brightly-lit room, Rose turned and hastily departed.</p><p>Connor kept hold of Markus’ hand when she left, stroking the back of it with his thumb and watching Markus’ far-away expression gradually adjust and settle back into place. He smiled at Connor when he seemed to notice he was there again. Connor smiled back at him and then wriggled his body up so he could kiss him. </p><p>“It worked,” he said. </p><p>“Hmm?” Markus said, kissing him back.</p><p>“People listened to you.” </p><p>“People just needed permission to do the right thing,” Markus said, his hands traveling up the sides of Connor’s neck to cup his face. “They would have done it anyway, eventually.” </p><p>Connor wasn’t sure about that, but Markus was, and Connor wasn’t going to correct him. Especially not since Markus had started kissing him again in earnest. He did so deeply and using his tongue and it made Connor want to melt into him. He looped his arms around Markus’ neck and let himself be laid gently back into the cushions, where they could keep kissing. </p><p>But when Markus started pushing his sweatshirt up so he could brush his fingers over Connor’s naked skin, Connor said, “Stop.” </p><p>Markus did so instantly, worry reforming his expression. “Of course. What’s wrong?” </p><p>Connor shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, putting a hand on Markus’ cheek, stroking there until Markus’ eyes briefly fluttered closed. “Someone’s going to come in, that’s all.” </p><p>Markus frowned. He shifted his head so he could kiss the tips of Connor’s fingers. “We have had a lot of interruptions. I can speak to someone. We’ve got to make sure you get enough rest.”</p><p>This isn’t rest, Connor thought of saying, teasingly, but he didn’t. “That wouldn’t be right. People are concerned, I understand that. I just think it’s sensible to take precautions.”</p><p>Markus shifted again, taking Connor’s hand from his cheek and moving it, clasped in his own, to rest on Connor’s chest. He’d started to smile, but then his face became serious again. “You said you wanted to talk more, earlier.” </p><p>“Yes, but…” </p><p>“Well, I’m here. If you want to talk.”</p><p>He was absolutely serious about that too, Connor realized. He was waiting for Connor to speak, concentrating on him entirely. Watching his eyes rest on him, so patient, so present, brought a familiar sense of anxious discomfort welling up inside of Connor’s body. He tried to shake it away. Markus wouldn’t like it if he knew what Connor was thinking, but knowing that didn’t help. In fact, it added to the sensation. I don’t deserve this, he thought. I don’t deserve any of it.</p><p>It must have shown on his face, or something must have. “Are you okay, kitty?” Markus said, so gently. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Connor said. </p><p>It wasn’t convincing. Markus searched his face again, and then he sighed. He appeared to be steadying himself. “Does this have anything to do with what you said yesterday?” </p><p>You’ll have to be more specific, Connor thought, miserably and sarcastically, but he didn’t manage to say anything. </p><p>“About sex,” Markus prompted. “About our sex and how I felt about it.” </p><p>In an instant, Connor went from a hazy confusion at what Markus could possibly mean to a full body memory of what he’d said and how he’d been acting when he said it. He didn’t think it was possible to contain this much shame without physically sinking into the ground. He dropped his eyes. </p><p>Markus caught his chin. He tilted it up so Connor had to look at him. </p><p>“Because I don’t feel that way,” Markus said. “At all. But if I’m pushing you or making you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do anything.” </p><p>“No…”</p><p>“I’m just happy to be here with you. That’s all I want.” </p><p>“No,” Connor said. “No, it’s…” </p><p>He didn’t know how to say it. Or what it was to say, for that matter. When he’d accused Markus of being disgusted he’d been out of his mind, but he’d also felt so correct about it and a part of him still did. That wasn’t to do with Markus, not really. At least he didn’t think it was. It was to do with other things, things far enough in the past he preferred they didn’t surface. He hoped he could force them not to. </p><p>He was no closer to finishing his sentence, though Markus was still waiting patiently with his brow furrowed and his gaze soft. </p><p>“No,” Connor said, finally. “You’re not. I don’t know what I was talking about then. It was pure irrationality.” </p><p>Markus didn’t look like he believed him. He ran a hand over Connor’s hair, trailing his fingers behind his ear before cupping his cheek again. He brushed his thumb along the line of Connor’s cheekbone. </p><p>“I’m going to call down,” he said. “Tell them not to let anyone else up. Then I’m putting you back to bed.” </p><p>“No!” Connor said, “No, don’t! Don’t do that, just…”</p><p>Markus waited for him without moving. As if he could have waited until the end of time. </p><p>“Really?” Connor asked, finally. “Do you really like it? As much as… as much as I do?” </p><p>Markus didn’t answer right away. His expression was at once fond and impossibly sad and his eyes travelled over every inch of Connor’s face again before at last he looked back into his eyes.</p><p>“Yes,” he said, softly, before stroking Connor’s hair again. Kissing Connor’s temple. </p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yes. So much. And of course I do, because of how much I like you.”</p><p>“Do you?”</p><p>For some reason, that question made Markus smile. Connor didn’t know why, perhaps it had been the way he’d said it, but he did know that the sadness in Markus’ face had gone away and there was just fondness there now.</p><p>“Yes,” he said. </p><p>“Really?” Connor said, and Markus smiled again, a little wider this time. </p><p>“Oh, kitty,” Markus said. </p><p>Then his hands were moving again. Trailing down Connor’s neck, stroking over his chest outside the sweatshirt, clasping his waist. He leaned into Connor’s body and pressed into him, kissing his mouth slowly and softly before pulling back to let Connor breathe. As if Connor needed to breathe. Connor felt that he did need to. </p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Markus said. His voice was still so soft. “I love you, and you’re beautiful, and I love to touch you.”  </p><p>Connor was helpless before that. Markus kissed him again, and then Connor felt his hands move without permission, stroking and then gripping on Markus’ back. He’d started to pull himself up, into Markus’ body, pressing against him now, almost as if he couldn’t help it. He’d already started to get hard. Markus could do that for him, whisper it up so that he barely needed to make a decision. He guessed Markus could feel that against him because he pressed closer too. </p><p>“I love it when you touch me,” Markus said, quietly into his ear. “I love that you want me. I want you too.” </p><p>It made Connor shiver. Markus seemed to feel that too, because Connor could feel his hardness now, and then they were kissing again. And kissing and kissing. This time, when Markus’ hands began to roll the sweatshirt up again, Connor didn’t object. </p><p>And then someone knocked. Of course they did. And Markus laughed and Connor barely had time to cover himself up again before the RK900 came into the room. </p><p>Connor guessed he knew what they’d been doing. They must look messy and rumpled, but more than that, it must radiate off them in waves, Connor thought. RK must be able to sense it wirelessly. </p><p>He was certainly wearing a look of practiced disdain. Connor looked right back at him, unflinching. </p><p>Markus had rearranged himself, but one of his hands was still under the blanket. He rested it on Connor’s stomach as if to calm him. “Hello, RK,” he said. “It’s good to see you.” </p><p>“I will not take much time,” RK said. “I’m aware you would prefer to be alone.” </p><p>The hand on Connor’s stomach was stroking gently, back and forth. It was distractingly soft and Connor felt himself stirring again. Yes we would, he wanted to say, but crankily. </p><p>“Have you got a report?” Markus asked. </p><p>RK nodded. Then he shook his head. “I have already delivered it to your staff. I was told you were not receiving reports of any nature today.” </p><p>“If it would help you to discuss it, then I’m happy to hear it,” Markus said. He meant that too, Connor knew, just as he meant everything he said. He really would be happy if he could help in some way. Help anyone, even RK. Connor resigned himself to that and tried to stop shifting under Markus’ hand. </p><p>RK made a strange expression. He was still wearing his uniform, Connor realized. Connor hadn’t thought about it since RK had left, and had barely registered him on the night of the storm to think about it then, but it was striking him now. The white jacket with his model and serial number on it, clothing meant to contain the potential threat of him by marking him as safely other. Perhaps RK preferred it that way. Connor wouldn’t have been surprised.</p><p>“No,” RK said, and now he was not meeting Connor’s eyes. He hadn’t liked being examined. “I am here to request your permission to return to the human city in order to continue working as police liaison.” </p><p>Markus’ hand had paused on the verge of slipping under Connor’s sweatshirt again. “It’s not my business to give you permission as to where you can and can’t go,” he said, quietly. “You’re free to make your own decisions.” </p><p>“Then I suppose I am asking if I may still usefully perform that role. In terms of your requirements, here in the city.”</p><p>“So you don’t still think of our liberation as a farce,” Connor said, and RK’s eyes flicked over to him. That unsettled Connor for a moment, the blueness of them in a face that was so much like his own. But he forced himself to keep looking.  </p><p>“I have not changed my mind,” RK said. “I have, however, become aware that I cannot change the situation as it stands either. As things are, I can best serve human interests by working as a representative.” </p><p>“You know you don’t have to serve them at all,” Markus said. He said it so gently, but it crackled with electricity. Connor saw RK receive it and be unable to ignore it. Connor felt it too. The skin on his stomach where Markus’ fingers rested felt electric as well and his chest swelled impossibly with something he couldn’t place until he realized it was not just excitement, but pride. </p><p>RK may have received it, but he did not answer it. “I believe I can continue to be useful in that role,” was all he said. </p><p>“I’m sure you can,” Markus agreed. His hand had started moving again, probably in a way that was intended to be comforting, but it was sending shocks through Connor’s body as well as his heart. </p><p>RK made another odd face. Connor understood he could see Markus’ hand moving, and was deciding to pointedly ignore it. “Then I have your permission?” </p><p>“As much as you need it, yes,” Markus told him. </p><p>“Thank you,” RK said. “I will inform your staff once I arrive back in the city.” </p><p>“We’ll need to talk about some kind of allowance for you. You’ll need things, living quarters.” </p><p>“That would be wise,” RK said. And then, “but not now. I am… I understand that you will both resume work tomorrow. It can wait until then.” </p><p>That was strikingly gracious, firmly deferential. It pricked Connor’s interest. “RK,” he said, and it was the first time he’d used his chosen name to address him. He resolved to continue doing that. And remembering that he was ‘him’ instead of ‘it’. </p><p>RK turned back to him. “Your systems are fully operational.” </p><p>“Yes,” Connor said. He wondered if Markus knew that that was almost an admission of care. Most likely. Markus was observant of details like that. Not just with the service models, with him too. “RK…” </p><p>RK did not move even slightly while he waited for what Connor had to say. That made two of them waiting, Connor thought. He’d started to speak without planning. But he knew he had to say something. </p><p>“RK, thank you for your work over the past two days,” Connor said. “It was good police work. I’m confident the liaison role is in safe hands.” </p><p>RK’s eyes went wide. He seemed to adjust his shoulders slightly and Connor detected a momentary rise in stress levels, so quick that few others would have noticed it. It puzzled him and he had to restrain himself from continuing to stare in that probing way RK had so obviously disliked. RK nodded, briskly, which helped. “It’s within my programming remit,” he said. </p><p>“Yes,” Connor nodded. “Clearly.” </p><p>He didn’t add anything else. Instinct told him not to. </p><p>“I’ll go now,” RK said. “Thank you both for your time.”  </p><p>He didn’t wait to be corrected, or to hear any more. He simply left, turning and leaving the room in quick strides. </p><p>When the door locked behind him, Markus leaned over Connor’s body and kissed him again. “That was very kind,” he said. </p><p>“What was?” </p><p>“Complimenting RK like that.” </p><p>“It wasn’t a compliment. It was accurate.”</p><p>“Yes, it was,” Markus said. “But it was still kind to say it. He appreciated it, didn’t you see that?” </p><p>Connor had seen something, but he wasn’t sure that was what it had been. “I’m sure an inferior model’s assessment means very little to him.” </p><p>Markus smiled, kissing Connor softly on the lips again. “I don’t think you’re that to him. An inferior model.” </p><p>“I am,” Connor said. “He’s been very clear about that.” </p><p>“I don’t think so.” </p><p>Markus’ hand was trailing up under Connor’s sweatshirt again. Connor felt it brushing over his stomach and then up to his chest. He was cupping there, stroking. He shifted his body so he was lying on top of Connor again, then kissed Connor’s jawline, near his ear. “I think you’re underestimating yourself,” he said. “I don’t think you know what a shadow you cast. You’re a revolutionary, a liberation hero. That must be intimidating, for a younger sibling.” </p><p>“We’re not siblings,” Connor said. “We’re androids.”   </p><p>Connor wanted to refute the rest of it too, but he was already distracted. He could feel that Markus was hard inside his jeans and it was pressing into Connor’s thigh. They had both started moving, almost without thinking about it, rocking against each other. Kissing again. </p><p>“Oh, I love you,” Markus said. “I’m so glad. I’m so glad you’re home.”  </p><p>“I’m glad…” Connor said, “I’m glad…” </p><p>Words had become unimportant. Markus’ hands were everywhere now. All over his chest. Slipping over the skin at his waist to catch him in the small of his back. His mouth was on Connor’s neck. </p><p>“God, you’re…” Markus said, his mouth moving up so Connor could feel it against his ear. His fingers had slipped into the top of Connor’s jeans now and he was still grinding his body. “Is that all right? Are you all right? I can stop, I just...” </p><p>The whisper of earnest want in his voice was very beautiful. Connor marvelled at it, and the tenderness it made him feel. His body felt hot, stunned, as if his heart was pinning him in place. It amazed him that his limbs could still move, they felt so weighted, sensitive, as if every movement was boundlessly significant. But he could move, he’d started working Markus’ shirt out from his waistband, gripping his hips, wrapping his legs around him. “Don’t stop,” he said, and it occurred to him that he should use a tender name there, should say ‘don’t stop, <i>something</i>,’ but he was no closer to finding that word than he had been.  </p><p>Markus had rolled the sweatshirt up again, evidently so he could kiss there. He slipped his head under it to press kisses all along Connor’s collarbone, then out again to kiss his mouth. His fingers were tight at Connor’s waist still and then he shifted and arched his body and then Connor felt his mouth on his stomach. Wet. Hot with imaginary breath, with the real passage of air through his mechanisms and onto Connor’s skin. </p><p>“Babe?” Markus panted. He really did sound like he was panting. He’d undone Connor’s fly one handed, the other hand still on his waist. The hand at Connor’s fly slipped inside his jeans and Connor felt it brushing up against his shaft then curling around it. </p><p>Connor gasped, shifting up to meet Markus’ hand. Uncanny, that he could induce such a reaction with just a touch. Connor’s hands went around Markus’ shoulders, and he tugged at him, trying to pull him up and position Markus’ body over his.</p><p>“Wait,” Markus said. “I want to try something.”</p><p>Connor wasn’t sure that he could wait, but when Markus spoke to him in that calm, measured way - the way that indicated the whole of his attention was focused on Connor in that moment - he was powerless but to be swept along with it. He sucked in a long, shuddering breath, forcing his grip on Markus’ shoulders to relax, releasing him.</p><p>Once freed, Markus moved very slowly, attuned to Connor’s shivering body beneath him. He had not attempted a sync yet, and Connor wondered if he would. Perhaps it frightened him, after what he had found inside Connor the last time. That howling darkness was gone now, retreated deep inside where not even a sync could find it, but Connor did not know how Markus could possibly have touched it like he did and escaped unscathed, untainted by it. Surely he had been cautioned against attempting such radical intimacy ever again.</p><p>Connor attempted to push those bitter thoughts aside. It was made easier by the fact that Markus had hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of Connor’s jeans and slid them down over his hips. Connor arched his body to help him along. His cock was already half-hard from Markus’s hand, but at the intense leveling of his eyes on the uncovered skin, it finished the job.</p><p>He felt that he was blushing, and Connor reached up to stroke Markus’ cheek, catching his attention. “What do you want?”</p><p>“Oh, there’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now.” Markus was half-smiling, as if at some private joke. “Do you really want to know?”</p><p>He passed the backs of his knuckles over Connor’s shaft as he spoke, and Connor gasped. “Yes…”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Markus…” Connor laughed softly, to disguise the hitching of his breath. “You’ve become a real tyrant.”</p><p>Perhaps it was a joke that cut a little too close to the bone, but Markus didn’t take offense. His eyebrows first pinched together, then elevated in surprise. “If you think you can stop me, you’re welcome to try,” he teased. Then he slid back down Connor’s body.</p><p>Connor felt his body winding up in anticipation. Markus pressed his lips to Connor’s sternum, over the mechanical pump, to the sharp angle of his hip. Then Connor felt them at the top of his thigh and then, very softly, at the head of his cock. </p><p>Connor gasped at that too, and again when Markus trailed his tongue alone it. It felt so sensitive there, hot, and Connor’s body bucked up towards Markus once again. Moving didn’t feel intentional, it felt instinctual. </p><p>He thought he could hear Markus laughing when he gasped again, laughing quietly, briefly, and Connor guessed he knew why. It couldn’t have been subtle, how desperate he was becoming, how infinitely more severe Markus had made things. If someone were to walk in now, he thought, they’d know it too. But he couldn’t bring himself to care about that. His hips moved and then Markus was gripping them and his mouth was all the way around Connor’s cock and that was <i>perfect</i> and then it wasn’t there anymore and Connor whined. </p><p>Markus leaned up to look at him. Connor had no idea what kind of expression he was making, but it seemed Markus saw something he liked in it because he smiled. Then he shifted down and nestled his face into the crease of Connor’s thigh. His mouth felt soft there. Gentle. Connor felt him kissing a featherlight line towards the inside of it, then felt his hands prising Connor’s thighs apart. </p><p>Just when Connor had started to sigh at it, Markus sat back once again, stroking a hand over Connor’s stomach, up to his chest. Connor was going to scream at him. He could feel himself writhing and making noise, wanting to protest. Just <i>fuck</i> me, he wanted to say, was about to say, could almost imagine saying. But he didn’t say anything at all. He couldn’t have anyway. He was kidding himself about that, he was powerless here, with Markus looking at him the way he was.</p><p>Markus tugged at his jeans again, pulling them all the way off. Then he writhed forward. He shifted himself so that his shoulders were under Connor’s legs. He traced Connor’s cock with his tongue again, gripping his hips again too. His fingers kneaded at Connor’s ass, then his hands moved until they were gripping there, and then, gently and expertly, he had tipped Connor’s body back so he could pull him open like a peach and put his mouth there too.</p><p>It sent a shock through Connor’s body. Somehow he had never imagined this. Never even considered it was possible. Never thought to picture Markus’ soft, wet mouth on the most tender part of him. He thought that must be because he’d never sensed anything like it, had nothing for comparison. </p><p>Then he wasn’t thinking anything at all. Markus’ tongue was moving slowly and each touch shivered through Connor from the belly up and he arched his back again, to get closer. That was a harder movement to make now, because he was shaking, propped up on his elbows feeling as if they’d barely support him. But his body moved anyway, because it needed to. Because he needed to feel it <i>more</i>.   </p><p>Markus must have felt something too because he pulled his mouth away and looked up at Connor from between his legs. “Okay, kitty?” </p><p>Connor tried to answer but he could only make an odd, strangled sound. He nodded frantically instead. </p><p>“I’ll stop if you don’t like it. I just thought it’d be nice to try it out.” </p><p>“I like it,” Connor choked out. </p><p>Markus’ hands made languid strokes on the backs of Connor’s thighs. “You’re really shaking.”</p><p>“Because… Markus…” </p><p>“You really like it,” Markus said, realization dawning on his face until he was smiling another fond smile. </p><p>“What if someone comes in?” Connor said, stupidly, and regretted it. But it didn’t stick anyway. His skin was on fire. He couldn’t have stopped with a gun to his head. </p><p>“They’ll be jealous of me,” Markus told him, wryly, pressing another kiss into Connor’s thigh and squeezing the flesh of his ass. “I need both hands down here. Why don’t you use one of yours on yourself.” </p><p>“On…?”</p><p>Markus leaned up so he could kiss the shaft of Connor’s cock again. It throbbed. “Here.” </p><p>Connor did as he was instructed. He wrapped a hand around himself. It felt thrilling and illicit to do and he shivered again. Markus’ head ducked back down. Connor felt his lips and then his tongue pressing into him once more, licking very gently and then probingly. He wondered, perversely, what he tasted like down there and that thought made his insides clench and he tightened his hand, moving it up and down. Without any effort he synchronized his own movements with Markus’ and something about that <i>completeness</i> set his body glowing anew.  </p><p>It was almost too much sensation. Each movement of Markus’ tongue was absolutely incendiary, sending static from the center of his body to his head, out into his limbs. He’d started to lick right up inside and Connor could feel his nose against the skin there and that made his body contract and loosen and contract again. He shook uncontrollably, even more than he had before, his hand trembling, his elbow dropping out from under him. He only didn’t fall because Markus was holding him up. </p><p>He was going to come, he realized, and not because he’d set the program going. He was going to come no matter what he did. </p><p>“Markus,” he said, and his voice was raspy. He didn’t have time to worry about it. </p><p>Markus’ head popped up again. His lips were glistening. </p><p>“I’m going to come,” Connor said. </p><p>“I know, babe,” Markus told him. “I can feel it.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I can override it while you’re doing that.”</p><p>“I don’t want you to override it.”  </p><p>“But I haven’t… I haven’t...” </p><p>“Don’t worry about me. I’m having the time of my life.” </p><p>He sounded so earnestly cheerful about it that it ripped a desperate laugh out of Connor’s chest. It shuddered up through him and Markus grinned.     </p><p>“I’ve got my face in your ass,” he said. “It’s delicious. If I haven’t told you before, I’m extremely fond of your ass.” </p><p>That same desperate laugh kept coming and it seemed like one more impossible sensation. Connor couldn’t fight it. He leaned his head back into the cushions. He nodded. Markus gripped him again and lowered his head again and resumed what he’d been doing. </p><p>Then something curious happened. So curious it shouldn’t have been possible, Connor thought, because he didn’t come right away. Even though the sensation was so intense, even though he’d been absolutely sure he was going to, he didn’t. And he hadn’t overridden anything to stop it. Rather, it seemed as if there were simply… more. He could feel more than he’d known he could. There was more room there somehow, space for a larger scale. </p><p>Whatever was causing that was also causing him to make such terrible noises. He tried to stop doing that but he failed. His body bucked against Markus’ touch and that was out of his control too, as if nothing existed of him but the desire to follow that sensation to its very edges. Each time he thought he’d reached them he hadn’t. They would move back and he would feel more and it could somehow feel better. </p><p>He’d started to think he would never come. He didn’t know if he could stand that. Attempts to initiate the protocol failed, but he thought that was simply because every part of his network was occupied. That didn’t trouble him, but the feeling of this did, such absolute desperation that seemed now like it would be endless. He squeezed his cock reflexively and it made him shout, and then again, and it felt hot to touch and he felt heat deep inside of him too. He was shouting too loudly but he still couldn’t stop it. He tried. </p><p>And then something tore through and out of him and he ripped his hand away and clapped it over his mouth just in time. He would have screamed aloud if he hadn’t. He did scream, but he muffled it and at the same time he felt himself burst open down the middle and felt fluid hit his stomach and heard nothing inside himself but roaring static. </p><p>He was barely aware of Markus lowering his body back onto the couch. He was still trembling, sensitive, curiously boneless. He’d bitten the inside of his hand and he couldn’t focus his eyes immediately. That should have troubled him too. It didn’t. He couldn’t feel troubled by anything. He tried, but it was pushed back by waves of such warmth he didn’t think it would ever be possible to be troubled again.      </p><p>Markus wriggled himself out from under Connor’s legs and propped himself up on his elbows. “Wow,” he said, smiling. </p><p>Connor tried to look back at him. He nodded. </p><p>“You really liked that, huh?” </p><p>Connor nodded again. </p><p>“Are you okay? Was it a little much?” </p><p>“No…” Connor said. “I’m… I don’t…” </p><p>“It’s okay, kitty,” Markus said. He was sitting up, hand on Connor’s thigh. He leaned over to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay, just catch your breath.” </p><p>“Markus, I’ve…” Connor said. He frowned. “It’s never been like that before.” </p><p>“What do you mean?” Markus asked him, gently, his hand brushing at Connor’s temple and back into his hair. </p><p>“There was more,” Connor told him. He wanted to figure it out, it seemed urgent to explain it. “I thought I was going to come, but then I didn’t. There were more sensations. Different. I’m not sure why. It seems an oddly specific response and I’m not sure why I would be programmed with it. I don’t know what purpose it would serve that this, in particular, would induce such a reaction. Do you think it’s…” </p><p>Markus wasn’t saying anything. He was only stroking, watching his face. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor said. “I’m talking too much, it’s not necessary, I’m… I’m sorry.” </p><p>“You’re not talking too much,” Markus said. His voice was very soft. He leaned down and kissed Connor’s forehead. </p><p>“It shouldn’t trouble me. It doesn’t trouble me. But it’s concerning that it doesn’t. It seemed… stronger than before. It was so much, Markus. I’ve never… It was so much. Do you think it’s another symptom of deviation? If I can sleep then…” </p><p>“If you can sleep then?” Markus prompted.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor said. He shut his eyes. Not being able to stop himself from talking felt as if it were part of it somehow. Something had slipped loose and wouldn’t settle. He should make some move, clean up, but he seemed to have no ability to do that. </p><p>“What are you sorry for?” Markus asked him. His voice was still soft, tender, and he trailed his hand away from Connor’s face. His fingers curled around Connor’s wrist and there was a charge there, a heat, and then Connor understood what it was. Markus was initiating a sync.  </p><p>Connor hesitated on the verge of accepting it. Markus wouldn’t force him, he’d never probe, had only done that when it had been an emergency. Connor could have refused. He didn’t know what Markus would find inside of him this time. He didn’t feel empty in the way that he had, but perhaps he was fooling himself. If he let Markus in, perhaps it would reveal to them both that this idyll had been temporary and delusional. </p><p>He had to try, he thought. Markus’ face was still, serene, and if he was afraid of what would happen he didn’t show it. That was brave of him. Connor could be brave too, for Markus, and so he slipped the wall inside of himself down and accepted the sync. </p><p>Something flooded into him. The gentlest, warmest, most comforting thing he’d ever felt. It suffused every part of him with such easy, bubbling delight that it made him laugh. </p><p>Markus smiled watching him. “You can feel that, can’t you?” </p><p>Connor nodded. “What is it?” </p><p>“Concentrate.” </p><p>Connor did. He laughed again. It felt so good. So safe and hopeful and soft. He followed it to its origin in Markus’ body, in his code. In his eyes and hands. In his chest, he thought, in his heart, because they didn’t have real hearts but Markus did somehow. And then he knew what it was. And was stunned. </p><p>“It’s how I feel when I look at you,” Markus said, confirming it. “I wanted you to know.” </p><p>Connor couldn’t speak. Then he panicked that he couldn’t speak. It had been so kind of Markus to say that and he had nothing to say in response. </p><p>“It’s not kind, it’s true,” Markus said. Markus could hear him thinking. Of course he could, through the sync. </p><p>“But don’t worry,” Markus went on. “You don’t have to say anything. I know how you feel, I can feel you too.” </p><p>“Am I there?” Connor asked, and he could hear the terror in his own voice. </p><p>“You’re there. It’s good to feel you.” </p><p>“I love you,” Connor said. </p><p>“I can feel that too.” </p><p>Markus hadn’t even <i>come</i>, Connor thought, but he forgot to regulate thinking it against the sync and Markus laughed. </p><p>“That’s okay.”  </p><p>“No, but…” </p><p>“It’s okay,” Markus said again, and it was okay, Connor could feel that. But he didn’t want it to be just okay and he thought that furiously while Markus watched his eyes. </p><p>“I wouldn’t mind,” Markus said. “If you’re not too tired.” </p><p>Connor shook his head. His hands moved down to Markus’ waist, attempting to pull him on top of him. He remembered just in time that there was come on his stomach and snaked a hand away to pull his sweatshirt down, but other than that he just tugged at Markus. </p><p>“Is that what you want?” Markus asked him. It was what he wanted too, Connor could feel that. Through the sync, but also because Markus was slowly pressing into him. A gentle grinding motion, in and out. It felt natural to him. It felt natural to Connor too. Just <i>fuck</i> me, Connor thought of saying again, and then realized too late he’d also forgotten to regulate that, because Markus laughed again. </p><p>“Okay,” he said. “Hold on.” </p><p>He didn’t break the sync. He used his other hand to slip his jeans down. Connor could feel his anticipation, could feel the fabric brushing over his cock and how ready and sensitive it was. He’d liked doing that to Connor, Connor understood. It had excited him. </p><p>“Yes,” Markus said. “I’m glad you can feel that. I wanted you to know that too.”</p><p>“I love you,” Connor said.  </p><p>“I love you,” Markus said, and he did. Connor could feel that he did. </p><p>He felt Markus using his hand to guide himself into Connor’s body. He felt that inside himself, and from inside Markus. Overwhelming, but also perfect. He looped his legs around Markus’ torso, heels up under his ass, and could hear and feel that Markus liked that too. </p><p>Markus’ waist was very perfect and so was his back under Connor’s hands when he slid them over it. He’d been so beautifully designed, Markus. Beautifully made.</p><p>“Thank you,” Markus said, amused, and Connor realized he was still failing to regulate his thoughts. Markus heard that realization too. “Don’t worry.” </p><p>Connor was tired. Genuinely tired. Not so tired he didn’t want to do this, definitely not, but tired enough to let himself be buoyed by it, rocked through it. Tired enough he couldn’t moderate the sync in any way. He’d just have to trust Markus not to mind his babbling thoughts, his incoherence. </p><p>Markus didn’t mind. He drove into Connor deeply, but slowly, holding him around the waist with his unsynced hand, as if he didn’t want Connor to break. Such a gentle, protective gesture. There were so many feelings at once that it made a sigh slip out of Connor’s mouth. Markus kissed there and pushed into Connor’s body again. He nuzzled his face into Connor’s neck and kissed there too. </p><p>Almost right away Connor felt something burning inside of Markus, and then burning inside of him in turn. Each time Markus thrust into his body it intensified. It made Markus shiver and Connor held him tightly, as if by doing that he could keep Markus safe.    </p><p>He could hear it echoing up from within Markus’ carbon fiber bones, and from within the depths of his own. They were twined together now, in spirit as much as in form. Connor could detect the pulse of Markus’ thirium moving through him, separate and distinct from his own blood, but moving to the same time. It kept yearning towards its like, and he could feel that something within Markus was yearning towards him as well.</p><p>It would always be like this, he thought in an awed daze. They were rooted together now, and they could never go back to the way they were.</p><p>He knew that Markus must have been able to hear those thoughts as well, but he didn’t react to them. Perhaps they had stunned him into silence, they way they had stunned Connor upon his realization of them. More likely, they were simply what Markus had known all along.</p><p>Either way, they were quickly becoming insignificant. All words longer than a single syllable were becoming difficult to process. A desperate urgency had begun to fill him. Connor knew it did not come from his own body, at least not solely his own. Through the sync, he could feel Markus’ impending climax. It crested inside him and hung suspended for a moment, seeming to push forward without moving at all. Markus went very still above him, and then Connor went still as well, his body angled up, wrapped around him, poised for the impending cataclysm.</p><p>Then, it broke over them both.</p><p>Connor felt Markus come inside him, but in the same instant he felt something much more curious. The tripping of a switch somewhere deep in his own body, the sudden unclenching of a specific muscle.</p><p>He came again, but this time it was not just his orgasm. He had felt Markus’ climax through the sync, and then his own body had responded. A little cry as much of shock as pleasure broke from Connor’s lips, and he twisted up off the couch, chasing the sensation as it retreated back into the sync.</p><p>In his enthusiasm, he managed to knock them both onto the floor.</p><p>Markus landed on his back, with Connor atop him, his entire body askew from the tumble. Surprised by the sudden reversal of their position, Connor blinked down at him for an instant, dumbfounded.</p><p>Markus began to laugh.</p><p>Connor watched the fine articulation of his facial muscles, the flash of his white teeth, the heave of his chest as he tried to catch his breath around his giggles. Then, hesitantly, he began to laugh as well.</p><p>“I take it you liked that?” Markus said.</p><p>“I felt…” Connor shook his head, searching for the words. “I felt you.”</p><p>“I know.” </p><p>Markus sat up. Still kneeling astride his hips, Connor leaned back so his back was propped against Markus’ bent legs. His lips tipped up into a lazy smile. Half-reclining like this, he could feel his eyes growing heavy again, his limbs becoming relaxed and liquid.</p><p>“You’re incredible,” he said. There was a tickle in his throat. Connor’s brow furrowed as he tried to contain it, but it seemed impossible. He pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn.</p><p>Markus looked surprised by that, but only for a second. Then his expression relaxed once again, and he busied himself helping Connor back up onto the sofa. “So are you. You’re incredible, but sleepy.”</p><p>“It makes no sense,” Connor pouted, allowing Markus to arrange his clothing back into some semblance of order for him. “It’s absurd.”</p><p>“I know, kitty.”</p><p>Markus got them both dressed once more, then he took a seat at Connor’s side and draped the blanket over him. Connor lifted himself to meet him, kissing Markus on the mouth once with purpose, then a second time lazily. Then he rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes.</p><p>The world went pleasantly dark and silent.</p><p>***</p><p>He awakened to the sound of a familiar voice. The shadows in the room were longer now, letting Connor know that it was well into the afternoon. His head was still on Markus’ shoulder, and though he could feel the vibration of Markus speaking, the slight flexing of his artificial respiration, he could also feel how still Markus was holding himself.</p><p>He was able to place the new voice at once: It was Josh. He had returned from New York, flush with news from their human allies.</p><p>This was important, essential to the future of their people and the city here. Josh had recently met with the UN Human Rights Council - an agency that by definition did not encompass androids, Josh was quick to add, but was the closest they were likely to get - and they had seemed receptive to his message. They had seemed sympathetic, but progress was going to be slow. Progress was always slow.</p><p>Markus nodded, and while he listened to Josh’s report, his hand moved up idly to stroke Connor’s hair.</p><p>It was all so important. He had to understand this so he could help them move forward. He had to focus and make sense of it all, so Markus didn’t have to do it on his own.</p><p>Connor closed his eyes and slept again.</p><p>This time, he was out for less than an hour. When he stirred next, Markus and Josh were still talking. It seemed that they had moved on from Josh’s official report and were now speaking more casually. Though he was still half asleep and did not hear what Josh said to prompt it, Connor was definitely aware of Markus laughing in response. It was a soft sound, relaxed and affectionate. He was remembering something from the past.</p><p>“You’ve done a lot here,” Josh said. “I always knew you would.”</p><p>“There’s still a lot to do.”</p><p>“There always will be,” Josh said. “But we have a little support now, and a little money coming in. We have time to regroup. Plan our next move.”</p><p>“I just wish I knew what that should be,” Markus replied.</p><p>“Don’t you?”</p><p>Markus sighed. Perhaps he had guessed that Connor was awake by now, because the arm around his waist tightened, pulling him subtly closer.</p><p>“Keep moving, I suppose,” Markus said. “Forward, into the darkness. Until we find the light again.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>With this chapter, we have reached the conclusion of pt 2. of the Demarcation Line series. Co-writer and I hope very much that you have enjoyed it. We certainly have. It has truly meant a lot to us to have company on this fic journey. It’s a project with a special genesis, in that it was conceived of the first time co-writer and I met in person after a(n unrelated) fandom friendship of eight years. We did so in a midpoint between our nations of residence, in Istanbul, just before the global pandemic put an end to travel. A more picturesque setting in which to play robot video games and then talk about them I couldn’t imagine. A more pleasing memory to sustain one during a lot of necessary time inside could not be possible. </p><p>(Istanbul explains the presence of cats, actually, in case you were interested. Cats are all over that city. They’re allowed everywhere. It seemed natural that they would also be allowed into our continuity, in the spirit of commemoration). </p><p>At any rate: pt. 3 of this series is already underway, and some other additional stories are planned too. We hope that you will continue to join us as we continue writing. We have appreciated your engagement and participation very much. There are whole arcs about conservation and future legislations, if that sweetens the pot for you. Because we’re like that. But also quite a lot of angst, because we’re like that too. (Ed note: And also Gavin and RK are gonna fuuuuuuuck)</p><p>In conclusion: thank you, and see you soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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